


Complications Minor

by misssara11



Category: Blackpool, Keen Eddie, Secret Diary of a Call Girl (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:11:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 61,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misssara11/pseuds/misssara11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Carlisle has needs. Belle De Jour is in the business of fulfilling those needs. It's a simple arrangement. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank **swankkat** and **kalleah** for their beta work and putting up with my freak-outs and insecurities. They made this whole thing better.
> 
> If this seems familiar to you, it was originally posted to my LJ back in the fall of 2008. I thought it was time for these folks to have a second home.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle meets Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ I want to thank [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[**kalleah**](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/) for their beta work and putting up with my freak-outs and insecurities. And that this chapter was written a long time before [that picture of David](http://pics.livejournal.com/misssara11/pic/0005b286) came out (I'm still convinced one of those two sent him this chapter). And long before any details of _SDoaCG_ Series 2 was leaked (in fact the whole story was written before the first episode aired). If you're curious as to what I dressed Belle in, [click here](http://pics.livejournal.com/misssara11/gallery/0000tg1s).

“Yes, he’s new. I don’t know much about him. He booked online. All I know is that his name is Peter and he is 11 minutes late."

“I still say it’s a bad idea to do it this way Han."

Belle rolled her eyes. “Benjamin, Benjamin, I have to get new clients somehow. Only a handful of my regulars came with me." Her buzzer sounded. “Oh, that’s likely him. Do you just want to stay on the line?"

“You gonna let me listen? Kinky."

“Shut up." She set down the phone and pressed the intercom. “Hello?"

The man looked up with slight desperation. “Please tell me you’re Belle. We have an appointment that I’m inexcusably late for."

“Yep. Come on up." She buzzed him in and did her final hair and makeup check. She finished up just as the knock landed on the door. She wasn’t sure what to expect but somehow what waited on the other side wasn’t it. He looked to be somewhere in his 30s, good-looking (though that hardly qualified him to not pay for company), rumpled or scruffy more like and he was keenly aware of his surroundings. “Peter? Come in."

“I must apologise for my tardiness. There was a thing at work and then I found the wrong building. I promise I’m not usually this inept at life."

She laughed, fully appreciating his Scottish accent. “It’s no problem. Can I take your coat and we’ll get the business out of the way?"

“Yes. Of course." Peter handed her his trench coat and pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket.

“If you’d like, head that way and get settled. Can I get you a drink?"

“Whisky would be lovely," he called over his shoulder. If this was his first time with a working girl, it certainly didn’t show. She picked her mobile back up and set about putting away the money and making the drink. “Ben? Yeah, no problem."

“What’s he like then?

“I’m not sure yet. I’ll call you after." Belle walked into the sitting room, drink in hand. Peter looked quite at home sitting on the sofa and smiled when she handed over the liquor.

“I really do apologise. I’m usually quite prompt and put together. Have to be in my job."

“Really, what’s that then?" She sat across from him, studying. His hair was messy but not in the trendy, trying to be cool way. His stubble indicated he was the sort man that had a five o’clock shadow by noon. His clothes indicated a mid-paying job. He had some of the most beautiful hands she’d ever seen: long, thin but still masculine. No indentation or tan mark from a removed wedding ring. He had walked in with a cocky swagger of a man that liked knowing everything going on around him but would give up control if needed. She’d have to wait and see if her assessment was true.

“I’m a detective inspector for the Homicide and Serious Crime Command at Scotland Yard."

She raised her eyebrows at that. She didn’t get many policemen. For one, they usually couldn’t afford her; and two, they worried about their jobs and/or marriage. She gathered together the usual bundle. “Well, we could chat some more but before that, let’s get you into the shower. Every thing you need is here or in there." She pointed the way.

“All right then. Won’t be long."

Belle looked herself over and debated changing or not. Under her dress, she had on classic bra and panties: black with pink lace and polka dots and matching suspenders. She figured it was a safe bet to leave that on. He didn’t seem the type to be choosy about such things and she most likely wouldn’t have it on for long, so she hoped for the best.

As she exited her closet from hanging her dress, she paused. She heard music. Singing actually. Following the sound, she ended up outside her bathroom door.

_“…They’re generating steam heat. Pulsating to the back beat. The Blitzkreig Bop. Hey, ho, let’s go…"_

She stifled a laugh. At least he had good taste. And, while he wouldn’t make it past the early rounds of _The X-Factor_ , his voice was quite pleasant.

Belle waited on the bed and struck Seductive Pose #27 when she heard the water turn off. When he walked out, she studied him again. He was thinner than his clothes let on. An appendectomy scar was peeking from the towel he had wrapped around his waist. He had a smattering of chest hair at the top. All said, it was quite well put together. She raised a hand to him.

He took it and she started tracing the back with her other hand. She looked up at him through her lashes. “Would you like some music? The Ramones perhaps?"

“Actually I’m more of a Clash man." He tore his eyes away from her fingers to find her smirking at him, her tongue sticking out to one side. “Oh. You heard that then. Well, at least you know one of my deepest secrets now."

“Indeed." She pulled a condom from her stocking and loosened his towel. “Shall we?" He answered her with a kiss. Normally, Belle thought of kissing as means to an end. She knew plenty of her profession that wouldn’t do it at all because it was too intimate. As he’d dipped down to capture her mouth, she noticed his lower lip was fuller than his upper. It was just as soft as she had imagined it would be in that split second before.

They continued kissing as the towel fell away and her bra and knickers joined it. She dragged herself up the bed while he ripped open the packet and slipped on the contents. As he crawled up to meet her, she noticed, with no small amount of interest, his physique and all that went with it. If the shops would package it, she’d buy one.

Belle decided it was time for the main event. “How do you want me?" she asked.

“This is fine. Just hook your leg around my waist. Yes. That’s lovely." With that he plunged inside. Belle decided that a detective’s keen eye for detail extended beyond the job as his hands and mouth were everywhere. She hadn’t enjoyed her job this much in a while. She shifted her hips a bit and he was soon panting in her ear. As he rolled off of her, she silently concurred with his statement. It was lovely.

Belle rolled to her side and placed a hand on his chest. “All right then?"

Peter leaned up and kissed her cheek. “Yes. Very much so. Thank you." As she caught her breath, Belle looked him over once again. If she thought he looked rumpled before, he was hopeless now. It suited him. She wasn’t sure he’d ever look right polished up. It was very seductive. She almost regretted meeting him this way. “I’d like to do this again, if it’s possible."

“I’d like that." She was surprised to find she wasn’t just saying that. She glanced at the clock. “I’m sorry to say the hour’s almost gone. Same time next week work for you?"

“Should do. I promise to be on time or call first." While he redressed, Belle slipped on her dressing gown and found him a card with her number. She wrote the date and time in big letters and underlined it. He laughed when he read it.

As she handed him his coat, she asked, “How did you find me, Peter?"

“Surfing the Internet, I believe the kids call it these days. I Googled you."

“And we just met."

“And it’s a damn side better than Googling myself. Not that I think I could stop that. I believe it was Woody Allen who said it was sex with someone you love."

“Wise man." He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Well, he was wise before the paedophilia and sort of incest thing."

“Too right. So, next week then."

“Yes." He kissed her cheek again and was off.

She dialled Ben, who was all questions as usual. “How was it? What’s he like?"

“I’m not sure, but I think I’m going to enjoy finding out."

Like that, Peter Carlisle became a regular.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preferences in lingerie are stated and a proposition is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ **swankkat** and **kalleah** made this whole thing better.

Belle checked her hair and make-up. Again. She debated changing. Again. 

It was almost time for her weekly time with Peter. He had been a regular for two months now. After three weeks, her usual business-like shell had given way to an almost overwhelming need to please him.

She prided herself on figuring out what men wanted and expected of her quickly. She couldn’t crack him though. He always seemed to enjoy whatever she tried but nothing made him lose that last bit of control. That bothered and intrigued her to no end. Still, he kept coming back, so she must have been doing something right. The obvious thing would be to just ask him but that would take all the fun out of it. 

She hadn’t told Ben. She wasn’t sure how. She worried he’d mock her for going soft. It wasn’t the first time she’d grown attached to a regular. It just surprised her that it happened again. She had thought that after Ashok, she’d learned her lesson. 

The buzzer rang and Peter’s face came into view. Without being prompted, he gave a half-smile and a bit of a wave. She buzzed him in and paced until the knock on the door came. She counted to ten before she opened it.

They conducted the usual business. By the time she’d clicked off her mobile, he’d gathered up the things for his shower.

“You don’t have to answer, but who do you call?”

"It’s fine. My security. Let him know I’m safe and all. Then I call after to tell him how it went."

“You don’t…?” Belle thought she saw the beginnings of a blush.

“Don’t what?” she prompted. 

“Go into detail. Say exactly what happened?”

“OH! No! No, no, no, no, no.”

“So that’s a no then?”

“Yes, that’s a firm no. Trust me. I really would not tell him.”

“I must admit, I’m somewhat pleased you look after yourself. I believe I’d be put out if we couldn’t have our weekly meetings.”

“You know what? I think I would be too.” The both realised the implications of what had been said and the awkwardness washed over them. “Anyways, do you want to…?”

“Yeah.” Peter had continued to sing in the shower. Belle had taken to listening to him though the door. He had quite the repertoire and Belle never knew what to expect. Today was Motown. She was certain he didn’t know as she’d run when the water turned off. 

She had his drink ready when he emerged. She liked the fact that, even after a shower, he still looked unkempt. It made her mind wander to just how rumpled he’d look in the morning. The thought was entirely pleasant, and that petrified her. He was a client. They had a business arrangement. One that was successful and enjoyable from both sides. That was it. She knew better than to think that way. She had no desire to think that way. At least she thought so. She was very happy with her life. Change wasn’t especially welcome. 

Peter took the glass and sat on the end of the bed. He toasted silent thanks as Belle made her way to him. She knelt down and pushed his knees apart. Once she’d settled between them, she opened the towel. One of her selling points was that she did OWO, oral without a condom. She, of course, reserved the right to do it at her discretion though. This was one of those times. Peter hissed as her mouth first touched him and groaned as she took him completely. He gripped his glass with one hand and ran his fingers through her hair with another. He attempted to be as gentlemanly as possible but lust won out at points his hips bucked up as his grip on her head got tight. With a final moan he fell back onto the mattress. Belle grabbed his glass, downed the rest of his whisky and smiled at him.

He raised his head enough to look at her. “Christ, but you should consider doing that professionally.”

“Thought about it.”

“Undress for me.”

“Is that something you like, then?”

He scooted up so he was fully on the bed and propped himself up on his elbows. “I’m a warm-blooded male, Belle. Of course I like that. But mostly right now I just want to touch you.”

“Well then!” She kicked off her shoes and gave him a show before lying down next to him. They moved to face one another as he started to trace over her.

“You are very beautiful. But I’m sure you know that already.”

“I see flaws, just like everyone else does when I look in the mirror.”

“What could they possibly be?” he asked incredulously.

“My breasts.” He carefully cupped one and left his thumb to make lazy circles around the nipple.

“What of them?”

“They’re too small.” His mouth replaced his hand and she arched into him. “I’ve thought about having them done.”

He pulled away, an offended look in his face. “Don’t you dare.”

“I’d get more business.”

“The type of client you’d get from that doesn’t deserve you.”

“I thought all men like big breasts.”

“Men like breasts. Period. Only the shallow ones require them to be artificial. Business can’t be that bad.”

“It’s not. Just something I’ve pondered. Although, with them this size, a bra is always optional.”

“There you go. Much sexier that way. Options. Like a surprise party. You don’t know what you’ll get.” He’d gone back to drawing figures with his fingers.

“So, what do you like, dressing up-wise? You’ve never really said.”

“I’m not that picky actually. I’ve quite liked every thing you’ve shown me so far. If I had to chose, well, I like almost all of it. The matching bra and knickers. The unmatched ones. That corset from last week was fantastic. Not fond of the one piece get-ups. Too much work. Undergarments that have no functionality, like the bras with holes where they should cover the nipples. I even saw one once that was just the underwire and two dots. Why bother then? Crotchless panties? Does that not defeat the whole purpose of wearing them to begin with? That being said, I do like the ones that tie on the side. It’s like opening a present. Though I suppose that’s more popular in swimwear. Suspenders and stockings are good some of the time but not always. I’m not fond of leather or rubber underthings. I like the traditional lace, cotton, satin, and silk. Speaking of silk, I like those short nightie things.”

“Chemises?”

“Could be. The tiny ones. Usually come with matching knickers.”

“Babydolls.”

“Yes. But no stockings with those. A bare leg is much more of a turn on in that situation. I’m sure there’s more but I’ve covered quite the spectrum there.”

“You know, if there’s anything you’d like me to wear, you just have to ask. It’s all part of the service.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Usually I’m just happy to be here.”

“Hmm.” During the entire conversation, Peter’s wonderful hands continued to map Belle’s body. She was more than ready to move on with the proceedings. With a quick glance down, she saw he was too. “Speaking of the services…” She shoved him so he was lying flat and straddled his hips. “Pull open that drawer.” She pointed to her side table and he obeyed. She leaned forward, making sure to let as much of her body to brush over his and plucked a packet from her stash. 

“I’m curious but not to know how much you spend on those in a year.”

“I buy in bulk.” 

With that, all conversation ceased. He gripped her hips as she rode him hard.

While she scoffed at other girls’ no kissing rule, she had a strict ‘no coming’ one. She refused to share something so personal with someone who didn’t know the real her. _Hannah_. She was, however, a champion faker and most of her clients walked away believing they had truly rocked her world. But now she felt herself slipping. This man got to her and before she could stop herself, she went over and he soon followed.

After a couple of minutes of heavy breathing, Belle climbed off him and rested her head on Peter’s shoulder. One of his hands idly stroked her back. It was possibly the most delightful thing she’d ever felt. She had an inkling that may have been because of her developing fetish with his hands as no one else who had done that made her feel like that. 

Peter checked his watch. “It is, unfortunately, that time again.” He kept stroking.

Belle lifted her head to look at him. “It doesn’t have to be. I mean, not tonight, but maybe sometime you could stay the whole night.”

“You do that?”

“Yeah, I do that.”

“How much would that cost me?”

“We can negotiate.”

He rose out of the bed and started pulling on his clothes. “It’s something I’ll have to think about. But no matter what, I’ll be here next week.”

She got to her knees and shuffled over to him. “You better.”

While he slipped on his jacket, he kissed her soundly. When he pulled away, he smiled at her. “I’m not sure I could survive a whole night with you.”

“Well, you’ll never know until you try and I promise to be gentle.”

“Not too gentle I hope.”

“Your wish is my command.” She wrapped the sheet around herself and walked him to the door. “Next week.” She punctuated it with another kiss.

“Next week.” He caressed her shoulder before shutting the door behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Peter's partner: Monty Pippin and Peter considers Belle's offer from last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/)**kalleah** made this whole thing better.

Peter sat his coffee and plate of pastries on his desk and eased himself into his chair. He opened a case file in attempt to be productive. It failed; he had read the same page three times now. His mind was on the offer from the night before. His musings were cut short when a hand reached down and grabbed one of his pastries. The owner of the hand sat across from him.

“Peter, my fine Scottish friend, something seems to be on your mind. And I think I know what it is. You’re wondering how you can be as handsome and wonderful as I am. The answer is simple. You can’t. I’m naturally gifted.”

Peter watched his partner nibble away at his stolen treat. Monty Pippin. They had been partnered up as soon as he transferred to Scotland Yard from North Lakes. They both were tall, thin, pale, and freckled. They were around the same age. They were both excellent at their jobs. The similarities ended there.

Where Peter was rumpled clothes, scruffy face and hair that was always just this side of needing cutting, Monty was slick, fitted suits, a £100 haircut, complete with highlights in his strawberry blonde hair and possibly a waxed chest. Monty and his female partner of the moment (Peter gave up trying to keep track) would pretend to married so they could join swingers clubs. Where Peter was set in his ways, Monty was a slave to trends.

For all their differences, they complimented one another. They were fantastic partners and fast friends. Peter knew he could tell Monty just about anything and wouldn’t be judged. Of course, Monty had no room to. Through the process of cases, stakeouts and spending down time together, there wasn’t much they didn’t know about one another. In fact, Peter knew almost too much about Monty’s extracurricular activities. Monty knew about his own disastrous past. The failed marriage. The Blackpool incident. Other things that led him to London.

Somehow all of this bonded them. The day they met, Monty told him about his last partner. The American who, in his words, foolishly fell in love with a rich girl and was touring the world with his dog and her cat. He then announced Peter was his new best friend. He had no choice from there. It did work out for the best.

Peter set down the unread file. “Have you ever spent the night with a prostitute?” They were dubbed “the trouble children” of the division and as such were sat in a corner. They discovered they could speak quite freely without the worry of being over heard by the rest of room.

“Have you?”

“It’s something that has been put forth as a possibility.”

“Have you even been with one at all? Oh! That’s where you’ve been disappearing to every week.”

“Yes. Answer the question.”

“A full night, no. Several delightful hours, yes. Do you want to?”

“Of course. I can afford to as well. I just don’t know if I should.”

“Peter, I know you’re a romantic, who knows why, but don’t fall for a working girl. It will end badly. I could set you up with many a willing partner”

“No thank you and I know that but she’s the one who offered.”

“Did she now? It’s good business sense on her part.”

“I’m aware of that as well. That doesn’t stop me from wanting to do it anyway or from wanting her.”

“What’s her name?”

“Belle. Well, that’s what she calls herself.”

“We could find out.”

“But we won’t. I respect her too much to do that.”

“That’s sweet. I say do it. You know I would never encourage anyone to turn down the opportunity for sex.”

Peter was about to say more when they noticed their DCI glaring in their general direction with his daily look of disapproval. They begrudgingly went to work.

After a long day of theories, interrogations, take-away wrappers, and rubber band flinging contests, a decision was made. Peter downed the rest of his tea, grimacing at its drop in temperature. “I’m going to do it. Either next week or the week after.”

“Good for you.” Monty rose and put on his coat. “If anything breaks with the case, I’ll give you call. You’ll do the same?” Peter nodded. They walked out into the fresh air. As they turned to go their separate ways, Monty turned. “Peter? Be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt again. You’ve been through enough already.”

“Thanks.” And that was why Monty was the best friend he ever had. Once you got past the blustering, he was loyal and caring. As he made his way to the tube, he pulled out his mobile. She was in his speed dial but that wouldn’t have mattered. He’d memorized her number weeks ago.

“Hello?’ He couldn’t stop the small smile when he heard her voice.

“Belle? It’s Peter Carlisle. I’ve thought about your proposal from last night.”

“Well, hello, Peter Carlisle and what was that thought?”

“I’m thinking I’d like to make it happen.” The connection crackled a bit as he descended the stairs.

“Great. When?”

“How soon can you?”

“Well, this next time I can’t as I have a booking after you but the week after?”

“That will do. Although, you need to know, I will be incredibly rude and leave my mobile on. It’s been a surprise we’ve carried on this long without my occupational interruptions.” He inspected his fingernails as if this was an everyday occurrence for him. Not that he could see her.

“I understand but thanks for the heads up. Remember if there’s anything you want, anything at all, ask.”

“I should come prepared to go straight to work from yours, if that’s all right.”

“Fine.” He was imagining her in her dressing gown, possible applying nail lacquer to her toes or some equally feminine.

“And I will be giving serious thought as to what you should be wearing.”

“You really should.”

“It’s matter of national importance. I’m thinking of putting a call to Downing Street about it.”

“Not Buckingham then?”

“Don’t want to be too hasty. Might need them later.”

“Of course. How silly of me.”

“Now, about payment.”

“I told you we could work something out.”

“Maybe I just want to know how you negotiate.”

“I’m much better at that in person.”

“You’re going to make me wait that long?”

“It’s one of my tactics.”

“So the game begins.”

“I know I’ll enjoy playing with you and every thing that entails.”

“So will I. Until next week then.”

“Good bye, Peter.”

“Good bye, Belle.” Peter trudged the rest of the way back to his flat. He’d thrown his coat over a chair, quickly added his jacket, grabbed a lager from the refrigerator, settled on the sofa, put up his feet, and turned on the telly when his mobile rang. “Yes, Monty?”

“Have you called yet?”

“Called what?”

“Her. For the thing.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I did.”

“Did you wait until you got home or did you even make it to the tube? I bet it’s the second one.”

“With your sexual proclivities, why are you so interested in mine?”

“You are my closest mate. I am, therefore, required to know everything about who you shag and when, so that I may mock you at a future date.”

“Really? I’ll have to remember that the next time you over-share with me.”

“Say what you will. You know I’m your hero.”

“Good bye, Monty.”

“I will get details! I have my ways!”

Peter hung up on him. He then set about his normal evening routine.

First he finished his beer while flipping through his 100+ channels before determining there was nothing on. Then it was time for dinner. He decided between having take-away, leftover take-away, beans on toast or going through the depressing ritual of cooking for one’s self and gaining even more leftovers. He found containers of the Chinese from a few nights earlier and tucked into that. After he polished those off, he poured over case files and notes before changing into his pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt. Instead of going straight to bed, he put his glasses back on and carried a couple more files over to the sofa. He left the telly on as background noise and went to work.

Several hours later Peter woke in the same position. It was hardly the first time that had happened. Still, when he stood and stretched, he cursed as his bones cracked back into place.

After flipping on the coffee maker, he shuffled off to the shower. While there, he did what was quickly becoming part of his daily routine. He had no shame in admitting he enjoyed a good wank now and then but the frequency of them had greatly increased in the recent weeks. And he always finished with the same name on his lips, “Belle.”

After a shave, Peter downed a cup of coffee before putting on some clothes. That was followed-up with another cup and toast. He knew he’d eat something more substantial at headquarters. He gathered everything up and was out the door. He checked in on the way to the train and met Monty at the door.

“Let me tell you about my evening.” Monty wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders.

“Do I have a choice?”

“No. You really don’t. It’s one of the privileges of knowing me.”

After being only partially disgusted at his partner’s adventures, they went to work. This same custom played out for the next few days leading up to his weekly time with Belle.

As promised, some enthusiastic negotiating took place and all was set for the next week. He knew logically he should just view it as business but he couldn’t stop himself from feeling it was a bit more than that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first overnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[**kalleah**](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/) made this whole thing better. I took my canon for this story not only from the series that inspired it but from the orignal Belle books. No, I've never read the book Belle lends Peter, but if you are interested, you can find it [here](http://www.amazon.co.uk/Mandarins-Harper-Perennial-Modern-Classics/dp/0007203942/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1213544224&sr=8-2). And if that's not your thing, here's [what she wore](http://pics.livejournal.com/misssara11/gallery/0000x3sp).

Everything was set. Belle didn’t normally do overnights as in-calls but she felt very comfortable doing that with Peter. Exactly on the hour, he arrived. As she let him in, she said, “Right on time.”

“Punctuality is a strong suit. Where should I put this?” He indicated to a small bag in one hand. He appeared to have a kebab wrapper in the other.

“I’ll take it. Dinner?”

“Sorry. Snack. I should have brought one for you,” he said as he handed over his bag.

“That’s quite all right.”

“True. Not sure what the etiquette calls for in this situation and I certainly don’t want to commit the heinous crime of ordering the lady the wrong thing.”

Belle carried the bag to the bedroom and Peter followed. “As long as it isn’t pork.”

“Why? Are you Jewish or do you not like the taste?” He studied her carefully as she leaned over to set his belongings down.

‘The first one actually.” She turned to him, ready to defend herself. He just lifted his eyebrows. “You don’t have anything to say about that?”

“No. Just my inquisitive nature coming out. “

She smirked. “Drinks. The usual?”

“Actually, a beer would be nice. Anything stronger and I would not only disappoint you, but myself and my partner later on in the festivities.”

Her heart sank a bit. “When you say partner, do you mean…?”

“Work partner. Fellow detective and very good friend. Also, the most depraved man I’ve ever known that I haven’t sent to jail.”

“Sounds delightful.”

“He is actually. He’s just a constant reminder as to why your gender occasionally hates ours and with good reason.”

“All right. Business?” Once everything was sorted and the door to the bathroom clicked, Belle made her call to Ben.

“Are you sure about this? You never do these at yours.”

“It’s fine. Really. I trust him. He’s a copper.”

“Which is exactly why I’m worried.”

“Don’t be. I’ll ring you when he falls asleep, if it’s not too late.”

“Ring me anyway.”

“Fine. Good bye, Benjamin.” She ran to grab a beer and hoped to hear the night’s musical selection. She caught the last few bars of a Beatles song.

They met up in the sitting room. “Cheers.” Peter toasted as he took his bottle.

“Would you like some music?”

“Yeah, you know what I like by now.”

“Do I?’

“You’ve been listening.”

Belle paused in setting her iPod and hoped her blush wasn’t noticeable.

“I think it’s cute that you try and hide it. I don’t mind. In fact, I’ve been using it as a barometer. Nothing has seemed to thoroughly repulse you yet. So, I’m guessing I’ve passed the test. Or you are an extremely talented pretender.”

“Well, I am that, but your taste is quite good. If something happens to change that opinion, I’ll let you know. Now, you still haven’t requested anything for me to wear. So, I had to guess. Again.” She undid the cord keeping her wrap dress on. It fell to the floor and she kicked it away. What was underneath was a black corset with ruffly bits around the top and bottom, held closed by hooks; a matching pair of small briefs, that when she turned, revealed a completely sheer back; and black sheer stockings that stayed up without the aid of suspenders. “With your job, I’d think you’d have to make important decisions like this.”

“Not at all. My occupation requires me to see the picture from every angle and different scenarios before the correct conclusion can be made. What with what I expect the size of your closet of frilly knickers is, I expect this to be a long, drawn-out investigation.”

She put her hands on her hips; cocked her head to the side, causing a piece of hair to fall over one eye; and smiled. “So, where does this ensemble lead you?”

He responded by picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom. She noted he was stronger than he appeared. His towel and her shoes were lost in the journey. He set her upright, sat down and pulled her between his legs by her hips.

“The corset is one of the truly great engineering feats,” he said as he trailed his fingers down the front.

“Are they now?”

“Aye, quite.”

“Hm…” Even though Belle enjoyed being with Peter, she still enjoyed being in control at work. She shoved him back onto the bed and straddled him. “We have all night to return to that subject but I’m more interested in other things at the moment. Aren’t you?”

“Well, one of the points of interest was going to be how they stay on and come off, but clearly that holds no appeal for you.”

“You didn’t say that was on the agenda. Would you like to do the honours or shall I?”

“Together?”

“Teamwork. Excellent.” The flurry of commotion that followed found the rest of her clothing removed, a condom put on him, several minutes of vigorous activities and two happy sated people catching their breath.

“Is this the kind of thing I should expect all evening?” Peter smiled lazily at her.

“Amongst others. Lie on your stomach. I’ll be right back.”

He did as asked. She returned after turning on the stereo and a quick trip to the bathroom. “What do you have there?” he asked, curiously.

“Massage oil.”

“Like the sound of that.” She climbed onto his back, warmed some oil in her hands and went to work. After some appreciative groans, Peter spoke. “Don’t think because I’m not talking, I’m not enjoying this. Quite the contrary. I’m giving myself over to the experience as it were.”

“That’s fine. As long as you are having a good time.”

“Mmmm.” She let her hands slide over his torso. One spot was slicker than expected and her fingers slipped down his side. He jerked in response.

“Really? Are we ticklish?”

“We won’t respond on the grounds it may incriminate us on at a future time.”

“So, yes. And I’ll be keeping that in mind.” She kept working, adjusting when necessary to reach his legs and bum. By the time she had made it to his arms, he’d stopped making any sort of noise. A quick check found him asleep. Belle climbed off him and made her way to the shower to rinse off, grabbing her mobile on the way, to call Ben.

“Every thing all right then?”

“Yes, Benjamin. He’s one of the good ones.”

“If anything happens…”

“I will call right away.” After a quick rinse off, she slipped on her dressing gown and gathered Peter’s clothes. She also grabbed a second towel for him, mostly to protect her bedding.

She draped the towel over him, dabbing lightly and left it there. She folded the duvet over to cover him up. She then set about placing his clothes on one of the stuffed chairs in the room. After she was done with that, she grabbed the latest novel she’d bought and made herself comfy next to him in the bed. She had made it half-way through a chapter before she realised she was being watched.

“Been awake long?”

“Since you folded my trousers.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

“You looked quite content. Didn’t want to bother you. How long was I out?”

She checked her watch. “About 20 minutes. You can go back to sleep, I won’t take it as an insult.”

“Nah. I’ll be fine. Stakeouts trained me for that. I can stay awake as long as there’s stimulating activity.“ She giggled at that. “On the flip side of that, I can also fall asleep anywhere and I have.” He rose from the bed and stepped into his trousers pants-less and walked the rest of the way to the sitting room. “Hasn’t been too long. The lager shouldn’t be too flat.” He picked up the forgotten bottle and took a swig. “Had worse. I’m starving. Do you have anything to eat around here?”

She smiled and motioned for him to sit. After changing the music she said, “I have some nibbly things. Be right back.” Aside from the kebab he’d come in with, she really didn’t know what he liked so she filled a tray with a variety of the little she had in stock and added a couple more bottles of lager for safe measure. Peter was bopping his head to the music and looking about when she returned.

“Lovely spread you’ve got there. Marmite!”

She smirked and attempted to stop the flutter in her stomach. “Like it then?”

“Love it. We didn’t have it in Scotland when I was growing up. I blame most of my misspent youth on that fact. Are you a fan of the savoury spread or do you keep it about for special occasions?”

“It’s brilliant, though it is a shameful secret. When my best friend found out, the relationship almost ended.”

“You should reconsider your friends then. They must appreciate such a culinary delicacy.”

“I’ll keep him around. He knows where the bodies are buried so to speak.” They snacked for a bit.

“So is that something you do often?” he asked. “Read, I mean. And I’m not saying you couldn’t be a reader. This is more of a conversation-getting-to-know-you-is-this-your-hobby sort of a thing.”

“Yes, I read a lot actually. And I read everything. Like I’ve gone through all of Simone de Beauvoir’s books and things of that like.”

“Simone de Beauvoir? French existentialist, right?”

“Yeah. She was a feminist who didn’t believe sex, either gender or the act itself, made you weak.”

“So, she’s a role model.”

“To me she is. My favourite, though, is Jay Laurie.”

“And we were getting along so well.”

“What? The man knows women. His first novel was just brilliant.”

“He’s a bastard. He makes you think he knows women, when in actuality, he knows just enough to make you wet your knickers. He knows what he knows to get another notch in his bed post. He doesn’t respect you. You are at least honest in what your job is. You provide a service. He uses his charm to sell more books.”

“You do know he’s a fellow countryman?”

“And that’s part of it. We hate to see one of our own do better than us. We must knock them down a peg or two. It’s part of our DNA.”

“So, it’s jealousy then. Why don’t we go back to bed and try to work out some of those issues.” Belle rose and extended a hand to him. He took it and soon she was on her hands and knees while Peter thrust from behind. When they were finished, she curled around him while he stroked her back. “What about you? What do you read?”

“Self-help books mostly.”

“And do they help?”

“They’re rubbish but I keep hoping someday, someone will get it right. Until then, it kills time while waiting on the bad guys to make a move and helps me tune out my partner’s sordid tales. Though now that he knows I come here, he wants details.”

“And do you give them to him?”

“A gentleman may pay for it but he doesn’t kiss and tell. I’m not much of a gentleman, so he knows I’m getting shagged on a regular basis and that I’m enjoying it.”

“Why, thank you.”

“No, Belle, thank you.” They had a few more goes in between cat naps. Belle even allowed herself to drift off once or twice. Morning came much too soon for both of them.

Peter shuffled off to the bathroom and Belle to the kitchen. “Coffee?” she called.

“God, yes.” A bit later he emerged, bits of shaving cream on his face, hair damp and towel around his neck. He was wearing trousers and a t-shirt and was using the towel to clean off his face. He took the proffered mug and fixed it to his liking. “Cheers.” The mug was half-way to his lips when he noticed that he was the one being watched this time. “What?”

“You do shave then. I though the stubble was a permanent thing.”

“And yet, if I let the beard come in, it’s spotty. I’ve always been a bit on the scruffy side.”

“Well, it suits you.” She grabbed the corner of the towel to clean off the rest of his face. “I bet you were one of those boys that never kept his clothes in order. Caked in dirt after two minutes of play.”

“You’ve seen my childhood photos then.” He stopped her hand. “I think you’ve got it all.”

“Sorry.”

He kissed her palm and checked his watch. “I don’t have to go right this minute. Several minutes actually. We could, if you’re interested…”

“I am.” She took their still-joined hands and led them to the bed. Their lips didn’t separate as he laid her back and opened her dressing gown. His hand ran down her body causing her legs to open.

It was then Peter’s mobile decided go off. “Damn. Sorry.”

“Not your fault.” She righted herself as he took care of business.

“And now I really have to go.” She watched him finish getting ready. “I had an excellent night. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. I hope we can do it again sometime.”

“Well, I plan on being here for my usual appointment next week. This, however, might take some time to get my finances in order.” She walked him to the door and they kissed. “Until next time then.”

“Wait.” She ran to the other room and soon returned with something in her hand. “To help you through those stakeouts. It’s her most famous.”

He looked down at the copy of _The Mandarins_ she’d given him. “Thanks.”

“Tell me what you think.” And with a final peck on the cheek, he was off.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A different kind of overnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[**kalleah**](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/) made this whole thing better. [What she wore](http://pics.livejournal.com/misssara11/gallery/0000ye1y), well, to begin with.

It was a Hannah day. Belle had no clients, so it was time to be herself. After a run with Ben, she got her hair done as well as a manicure/pedicure. As good as her salon was, she preferred to wax at home, which she did.

She headed back out for a spot of lunch and a few errands. Unfortunately her day off coincided with a big day at the club for Ben, which left Hannah on her own. She was not, however, desperate enough to call her family. This took her into late afternoon.

With nothing on the TV, she did what many a working girl would do: checked to make sure she had plenty of fresh batteries, stripped down, got out her “toy box”, and did some serious “quality control.” This used to be the only time she’d let herself come but lately that had changed.

Something else had changed as well. Usually when she’d do this, she’d fantasize about a man who was a combination of all the best bits of everyone she’d ever or hope to ever sleep with. Now, only one man was on her mind. A tall, skinny, freckled, scruffy, smart-mouthed Scot.

He wasn’t the best looking man she’d ever been with (though he certainly was attractive). He wasn’t the best lover, client or otherwise (though he was close). He wasn’t the most charming (he was number two). Yet he had got under her skin.

This was not good. She was an escort and he was a client. She didn’t know much about him. He knew even less about her. And yet…

After the fifth toy and fourth orgasm, she started to laugh, recalling their first conversation about Googling. She had no idea what to do. She knew it was dangerous territory. She decided something deep and philosophical should be said to mark the occasion.

“Bollocks.”

* * *

  
While Belle had arranged with Peter to spend a full night again, this wasn’t that night. Still, she was happy enough to pull out the La Perla. It was a tasteful sheer pink babydoll that buttoned with three small buttons down the front and had flowery lace cups and matching panties. She kept her legs bare as she remembered he liked. Her hair hung in perfect Veronica Lake waves and her make-up was quite demure for her. She was the very picture of romantic seduction.

As soon as the downstairs’ bell rang, she buzzed him in and called Ben. She smiled at the knock on the door and smiled even wider as she opened it. And her face fell slightly at what she found. It was Peter, only paler and a bit green. He gave her a weak upturn of his lips before dashed for her bathroom. By the time she caught up with him, he’d emptied a great deal of his stomach contents.

“Peter? Are you okay?”

He looked up at her meekly. “Dodgy curry at lunch. Food poisoning.”

“That’s a legitimate excuse to miss an appointment you know. Why come here?”

“Would you believe I just like your loo better?” She gave him a look. “I’ll take that as a no. Excuse me.” He heaved into the toilet again. “Sorry. Yours was closer. No worries, when my time is up, I’ll go home.”

Belle made a snap decision. “You’ll do no such thing. Here, let’s get you out of your coat and jumper. Dear Lord, you’re burning up!” She ran a flannel under the tap and pressed it and his hand to his forehead. “Better? Good. I’ll be right back.”

“I promise not to go anywhere. Oh God, here we go again.”

She quickly changed into her own pyjamas of shorts and a t-shirt and pulled her hair back into a messy knot. She grabbed her mobile. “Ben? I need a favour.”

“You just said every thing was fine!”

“It is. Sort of. Would you run to the chemist and get me some Pepto Bismol, paracetamol, some fizzy, clear drinks, and whatever else can get you over vomiting or the like? Also, I’m cancelling the rest of my appointments for the night.”

“You feeling on the up and up?” His concern was clear, even through the phone line.

“It’s not for me. Just hurry. Thanks.” She went back to check on her patient. He was actually hugging her toilet.

“Whoever decided to make these out of cool porcelain was very wise indeed. Your money is in my coat by the way.”

“Don’t worry about it. Can I get you anything?”

“A new digestive tract?” he asked hopefully.

“I’ll see what I can do. Just make yourself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as one can be in a situation like this.” She left him be. With all the professionalism of the legal secretary she told people she was, she cancelled the rest of the evening. “I’m disappointed too. Can we reschedule for another time? Great. I’m looking forward to it.”

The knock on the door announced Ben’s arrival. She snatched the bag from his hands. “You’re a wonderful person.”

“This is not news, Han.” He winced at the retching sound that drifted towards him. “Need any help?”

She grabbed some cash. “This should cover it. And no, I think he’s embarrassed enough without having a stranger about.”

“So, is he actually sick or this some weird fetish thing?”

“God, I hope not. No, I’m pretty sure it’s the real deal.”

“If you need anything else…”

“I know and thanks.”

“I was going to say, ‘Don’t call me,’ I have a long day tomorrow and need my beauty rest.”

“Get out of here!” She playfully shoved him out the door. Belle found Peter lying on the floor, a hand over his stomach. “Up you go. I have medicinal help. Let’s get you out of these clothes.” He raised an eyebrow at that. “I mean, down to your underwear. Don’t want your shirt and trousers messed up and you need to be comfortable.”

“And here I thought you just wanted me to flash my knickers.”

“Do you wear knickers?”

“Only on special occasions.” He paused in sliding out of his shirt. “Have you ever come across that type of thing?”

“I’ve come across quite a bit. I once saddled a man and rode him like a horse.”

“Really?!” She couldn’t be sure if he was truly interested or was just looking for a distraction. Either way, she indulged him.

“Yep. He was a nice bloke, I was happy to do it. I am a man’s fantasy. Their ideal lover. There’s very little I won’t do. You should keep that in mind. You just have to ask.”

“My tastes are decidedly pedestrian, I’m afraid.” He was down to his pants and t-shirt. She took the discarded items and shook them out, then helped him up. He followed her to the bedroom and sat on the bed. “Boring even.”

Belle wandered to the kitchen to get Peter’s tablets and mumbled to herself, “You’re certainly not boring.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Take these, sip that, lie down.”

“Yes ma’am. You know under different circumstances, I’d take advantage of this whole authoritative nurse thing.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled as she left the room again. This time she returned with an empty bowl. “Just in case.” He nodded. “So, why are you boring? Surely you have the common turn-ons. Two women?”

“No. They may revoke my heterosexual male card for that but it’s enough pressure pleasing one woman, let alone two. And then what if they figure out they don’t need me at all? I can’t deal with that kind of rejection. And if I’m paying for it, it will always be on my mind that they are faking it. Excuse me.” He made another dash to the toilet and came back wiping mouthwash from his lips.

“What about watching a girl masturbate?”

“Once again, what if she figures out she doesn’t need me?”

“What if she’s so turned on, she can’t help herself?”

“Then she should come to me for assistance. That being said, I’m not against mutual helping hands, as it were.” He shivered.

She ushered him under the blankets and stored what he was saying for later use. She’d been inspired. “What about anal?”

“No. You?”

“Well, yes. I enjoy it actually.”

“I know what that orifice is meant for. Even barring tonight, I know what my digestive system is like. So the idea of anyone or anything going in that general area is revolting. And then, who knows what other people eat, so I’m not getting anywhere near there. Fair play to the homosexuals for getting over such hang ups.”

“You really over think things sometimes, don’t you.”

“It’s part of the job. Besides, I’m perfectly satisfied with the sex I am having, have had and will have in the future.”

“But you don’t have a problem with oral.”

“No, I don’t. It’s a bit of protein that comes out of me and there’s protection to block that. And you’re built so that what comes out of you is not only lovely, but meant to lubricate for future activities. I see it as helping along the process or tidying the area up.”

Belle shook her head. “I’m half-afraid, half-intrigued to get inside that head of yours.” She shifted to lie next to him and quickly sat back up. “Fantastic. Now I’ll be thinking like you the next time any of these things come up. How are you doing?”

“I think I’ve left the whole of my stomach contents in your plumbing. Other than that, wonderful. Oh, maybe not. Now comes the pain.” He rolled to his side, clutching his abdomen. Belle started to rub his back and found his t-shirt soaked through with sweat.

She ran to the kitchen and returned with some water, more medication and an ice pack. “Hand.” She pressed the pack and his hand to his forehead. Peter moaned in relief and then threw the duvet off himself. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll be right here if you need me.” She saw him nod. Once she was satisfied he was settled, she picked up a book and read for some time. Peter had just fallen asleep and started to shiver again. She tucked him in and went back to her book. After a bit, she puttered around, cleaning up the results of the evening.

She paused when she returned to the bedroom. Peter’s sleep was only slightly restless, moaning when he would shift. His face still had a sheen of sweat but his colour was close to normal. It struck her how right the picture was. Him asleep in her bed. No money was exchanged. No sex was had. And yet it was a satisfactory evening (except for the vomiting and discomfort, of course). She wasn’t in her Belle-gear and she didn’t mind him seeing her as Hannah. Those thoughts simultaneously thrilled and terrified her. This was not who she was. She didn’t do normal relationships. She didn’t let people know the real her. Besides, he surely thought of her as just her profession.

She was comforted by the fact that she still wanted to have sex with strangers for money.

She climbed back into bed and resumed rubbing his back as it seemed to settle him. She chalked her line of thinking up to compassion for the situation. Tomorrow, things would go back to normal. She shushed the voice that pointed out that she’d dropped everything for care for him.

Some time later, Belle woke with a start. Apparently rubbing Peter’s back was as relaxing for her as it was for him. She sat up and realised that not only was she alone in the bed, but all of Peter’s things were gone as well. She ignored the great sense of disappointment that washed over her as something caught her eye. On the coffee table was a folded piece of paper. As she opened it, several bills fell out.

_For the medicinal items and urgent care. You deserve it and I’m not taking it back. Thank you for putting up with my pitiful form and giving up your evening. I’ll try to make it up to you._

~Peter

She clearly had something in her eye and quickly wiped it away. She found her personal mobile and dialled. “Ben? You know how you said you’d always listen? Yeah, I need that. Can you meet me for lunch?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Admissions are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/)**kalleah** made this whole thing better.

Ben chewed, then washed down the rest of his sandwich and pushed his plate away. He looked across to his companion, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the meal.

“So, Han, what’s up?”

“I think I’ve done something incredibly stupid.”

“Must be a day that ends in ‘y.’” He shrunk at her look. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m falling for a client.”

Before he could stop himself, Ben burst out laughing and settled into a quiet chuckle even after the death glare he received. “Come on, Han. It’s funny. You, who said you aren’t like other girls. You don’t do normal relationships. It’s the bloke from last night, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“You don’t cancel appointments for anyone. Who is he then?”

“His name is Peter and he’s, well, Peter. I’m surprised as you are. I didn’t expect to feel this way but he brings out these things in me. And it’s ridiculous to think like this. He’s a client. I’m an escort. That’s probably all he sees it as.”

“I doubt that.”

“Why?” She picked at her own plate.

“He came to you last night. He could have cancelled or left.”

“He said I was closer than home and he was going to leave. I made him stay.”

“I have a feeling if he had really wanted to go, he would have. Another thing to keep in mind, I bet you’ve had plenty of clients who’ve fallen for you.”

“And that’s another problem. He knows Belle, not Hannah.”

“So let him get to know Hannah.”

“What if he doesn’t like her?”

“I happen to think Hannah’s pretty terrific. He’d have to be awfully thick to think otherwise.”

“I just…I can’t.” She played with the bottom of her t-shirt.

“So you’re going to keep Mr. Wonderful at arm’s length? Why? Because you’re scared?”

“Pretty much.”

“That’s ridiculous but I not going to push,” and then added under his breath, “though it sounds nothing like you.”

“Look, I’m just using my head to ensure I don’t get hurt. I can’t afford something like this in my business.” They paid the bill and set off. “Just let me deal with this my own way, alright?”

“Fine. Fag?” He held out a packet of cigarettes.

“I’m trying to quit, actually. The last time we went for a run, I was still catching my breath a half hour later. See? Wearing a patch and all.”

Ben raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment. “So, does this guy know some tantric voodoo or something to knock your socks off?”

“Actually, he’s rather conservative in that area.”

“How conservative?”

“He makes you seem adventurous. That being said, what he does do, he does _very_ well.” Ben stopped, laughed to himself and shook his head. “What?”

“I just am dealing with the fact that this is my life. I’m having a casual conversation with my ex-girlfriend, who has sex for money, about a client of hers who is apparently a great shag and she has more than a professional interest in but won’t do anything about. And she’s quitting smoking though she used to light up at all hours. This is normal now. “

“You should get new friends then.”

“Nah. Mum always said I was above average. I just didn’t know she meant this. You keep my life interesting.” He put her in a light headlock as she hugged him around the waist and they kept walking.

* * *

  
Peter and Monty entered the pub, ordered their pints and took a seat at a table. They had just solved a missing person’s case that luckily had a happy ending and a celebration was in order.

“Even my cynical heart is happy to see parents get good news now and then.” Monty took a drink. “Don’t you agree?”

“Most definitely. I’ve seen it go the other way more times than I’d like to remember.” Peter took a long draught of his own then held his glass in the air. “To the finest and best looking detectives in all of London town.”

“Here, here!” They clinked and downed the rest of their drinks, then motioned for another round. Monty clasped his hands and stared with intense interest across the table.

Peter looked over his shoulder then back. “What?”

“You have a glow about you.”

“I have a glow about me. What, am I pregnant?“

“Different kind of glow. What is it?” He squinted then his eyes went wide. “Oh. Oh no.”

“Now what?”

“It’s the glow of a man who’s become enamoured with another human being. My, how the mighty have fallen. I didn’t even know you were dating! Who is she?”

Peter glanced at him over his glass and quickly looked away.

“NO! Didn’t I warn you?”

“You did and I’m not pursuing it. She’s just…she’s not what I expected. I mean at that level she would have to be smart and charming. But…”

“Is she pretty?”

“Beautiful. She has these big eyes that she knows how to play up and her lips…”

“That good, huh?”

“Better. And she’s witty. I can talk to her and she knows things. Not because she studied to impress me but because she knows it. We can debate philosophy or, much more important, whether the Sex Pistols influenced the Ramones or vice versa. I just want to be around her. I don’t even know that much about her, including her real name, and yet this is still the most honest relationship I’ve ever had.”

“Except it’s not a real relationship. That being said, she did take care of you a couple of nights ago and you could have went anywhere for help, but you went there and she not only didn’t kick you to the curb, she was free flowing with the TLC.”

“And I know she cancelled some appointments to do that. That has to mean something, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what. I don’t have to ask how the sex is, but I’m going to anyway.”

“It’s phenomenal and that’s all I’m saying.”

“Surely it’s not as good as what I’ve ever had in my life.” Peter just smiled and shook his head.

Another round later and they were throwing darts. Badly. Though neither would admit it. Monty lined up his shot. “Loser buys next round?”

“Sounds fair.” They played for a bit, giving each other a hard time. Peter threw the last dart and won the game. “And that’s how it’s done, my friend.”

Monty begrudgingly got the drinks, bringing shots along this time. “What I don’t get is how calm you are. You’ve told me you’re the jealous type. This situation would bring that out in force I would think.”

Peter downed his shot and hissed as the liquor burned down his throat. “I’m just as surprised as you are. I keep waiting for it to show up. Maybe it’s because I know that she’s doing it and it’s just a job. Of course, I have no claim to her either. So, maybe that’s it. When I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”

Monty wasn’t looking at him. Peter followed his line of sight and found a brunette who seemed to have forgotten the bottom of her dress. With a pat on his arm, Monty said, “You do that. Excuse me, will you.”

“As if I had a choice,” he replied long after he was alone. He nursed his pint as the buzz was getting to him. To Peter’s surprise, Monty walked back towards him, pocketing a scrap of paper. “No luck?”

“Don’t ever doubt my prowess. No, I’m making her wait.” He waved and the girl in question blew a kiss. “That’s right, come to Uncle Monty’s hen house you little fox.”

Peter opened his mouth to correct him but thought better of it. Watching his partner on the pull was fascinating. Sir David Attenborough could have created a successful series on the subject.

Monty turned his full attention back to Peter. “So, how do you know she just isn’t treating you like she does everyone else? You said she’s good.”

“I don’t, but it’s a hunch.” Peter tilted his head back like he was searching for the answer. “It’s like, you have a favourite barman. And you know you’re a preferred customer. You’re both aware he serves drinks to other people. But you also know you’re the one he gives free shots to or always gives you a double when you can’t afford one.”

“I’ve never had such a barman. Like one though. I do see your point.” They finished their beer and headed out into the night. “Share a cab?”

“Sure.” They hailed one and rode in silence for a bit.

Monty turned and looked at his friend. “Do you really like her?”

Peter turned as well. “Yeah, I really do.”

“And you think she may like you?”

“Yes.”

“Then, Peter, my boy, go forth and find out. When do you see her again?”

“Tuesday and it’s a full night this time.”

“So test the waters a bit. See what happens. And if you get lost along the way, you just have to ring.”

“I don’t think I’ll go quite that far.”

They reached Monty’s first. He paid his part of the tab and clapped Peter on the shoulder.

Peter started to formulate a game plan. He was afraid to admit he was nervous. He did know one thing that would help. He pulled out his mobile.

“Belle? Peter. I know what I want you to wear when I see you next.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another overnight. Belle asks Peter something that's been on her mind. And candy floss!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[**kalleah**](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/) made this whole thing better. A while back I asked my flist for. let's call it research, about certain types of music, well, this is what I was asking for. If you were wondering what Belle was wearing, [this is it](http://pics.livejournal.com/misssara11/gallery/0000z4h1).

Peter didn’t spend the night the following Tuesday. An unexpected break in a case led to an opportunity that couldn’t be missed and took the whole night into the next day. He did, however, make it for an intense hour before hand. Then neither his nor Belle’s schedule aligned for more than the usual meeting. Finally things clicked and the plans were made.

Belle finished pulling her hair into a low, elegant side ponytail, making sure each of her large curls was in place. She then stood and did a fully body inspection. It didn’t surprise her when Peter had asked her to wear a babydoll, lacy knickers and bare legs. As previous plans had fallen through, she pulled out all the stops this night.

A majority of her very high-end lingerie were gifts from clients. But not what she was wearing now. It was her favourite, a treat for herself. She’d never worn it for a client before. She felt it was about time and he was the right man. She was well aware he’d probably never be able to afford to shower her in diamonds or something like this and that would make him appreciate it that much more.

The chemise just reached the top of her thighs. Its sheer white silk clung to all the right places and was so thin, it was practically transparent. In fact, the front panel was. The cups covering her breasts were a dark blue silk overlaid with white lace. A blue silk ribbon tied in a bow below her cleavage and also made up the straps. The panties were made of the white lace underneath. The blue silk ribbon continued in the bows covering the elastic holding what little was there, on. To finish, her heels were white and pointy.

She tucked the ends into a pair of grey trousers and buttoned up a matching suit jacket over the top, as to not give the whole thing away and to not scare the neighbours. She thought surely they knew or had an inkling as to what she did but were polite enough to not say.

Peter arrived right on time and brought candy floss with him.

“Detective.”

“Miss. This is for you.” He handed her a cone of her own. “And I’m returning this.” He handed her back the book she’d lent him after their first night.

“And did you read it?”

“Had to. There are no York Notes on it.”

“Did you like it?”

He struggled to find the right word. “It was unlike anything I ever read before.”

“That’s not an answer but I’ll let it slide for now.” They took care of business and while Peter made for the shower, Belle put away the book, set aside his overnight bag, set down the candy floss, called Ben and stripped out of the suit.

She then went to set up her iPod. Since Belle knew he was a fan, they had been using music and trying out different styles. The Stones were better than the Beatles in that respect (which led to a playful argument over who was more superior in general.) They experimented in jazz, some times more successful than others. She surprised him with some cello suites that gave them both a new appreciation for the classics. VAST was good. Chris Isaak was better. Then there was the _very_ memorable time set to Massive Attack.

Using that information, knowing what he sang in the shower and making a few educated guesses, she had made a playlist for the night. She turned on the stereo, leaving the volume low enough she could hear him.

Belle discovered the stash of condoms she kept in the bedroom was out. She kept the boxes in the loo so she should have to wait before she replenished. When the water turned off, she turned up the music and went to wait by the door.

“I knew you were a fan but charging in right after? Oh. You look stunning.” Peter didn’t try to be subtle about raking his eyes over her.

“So, the Prime Minister would approve then?”

“What? Oh. Yes, I believe he would but let’s not tell him just yet.” He ran his fingers down her neck, to her shoulder then to the neckline. “So did you need something or did you just miss me?”

Belle all but purred under his hand. “Hmm? Oh! Yes, I need something. Excuse me.” She brushed past him with as much contact as possible. She rooted around in her cabinet and found what she was looking for. Belle waved the box in Peter’s direction. “We might need these later.”

She suddenly found herself flush against him. “Why not now?” They stumbled down the hall to the living room. Belle dropped the condoms once they entered the room so she could grab his head.

Belle soon found herself sitting on the sofa with Peter kneeling between her legs, ravishing her neck. His hands trailed down her sides, reaching up to lift her hips. He slid her panties down, taking time to pepper kisses on her knees. After he flung the bit of lace and silk across the room, he gave her a wicked smile and started to dip his head. She grabbed the side of his head and lifted it to look at her. She had to ask. “Why do you come here, Peter? I wouldn’t think you would have any trouble picking up women.”

“Maybe I just like you.”

“Seriously though.”

“You’re cheaper than therapy and safer than alcohol.” It was less of answer than the book one. Any retort she had was forgotten when his mouth found its way up her thigh.

The song switched on the shuffle. When the lyrics kicked in she felt more than heard him. He was humming along and it gave the most delightful vibrations. Soon she felt his lips and tongue moving as well. The bastard was singing along! And he knew just when to pull back. She climaxed completely in sync with the music.

Her chest heaved as she came back to Earth and vision came back into focus. Peter rested his head on her thigh, his hair tickling the skin there. He smiled a sexy, lazy, slightly smug smile, his lips still glistening with the evidence of what he’d just done. “That’s one of my favourite songs.”

Belle knew that while she’d never remember what the song was, it was one of hers now too. She pulled him up for a kiss and wrapped her legs around his waist. A heel caught on his towel, loosening it and making it shift lower on hips. He reached blindly behind him for the discarded box.

Before things could proceed further Peter’s mobile went off. “Bloody hell. I have to get this. Only work calls this late.”

“Right. Yeah.” She slipped back on her knickers while he took care of business. He returned to the room half dressed.

“I’m sorry. I have to go. Damn Scotland Yard.”

“I thought they kept the citizens of this fine city safe.”

“Only when their force isn’t walking around with a hard-on.”

She walked up and cupped him through his trousers. “I could help with that.”

Peter let out a groan. “And I really want you to but I have to go. I’ll just have to calm myself down on the Tube. Think of football or something.”

“Really? You don’t strike me as the type.”

“What? No, not like that. I’m not the type. I’m the opposite of sporty. So remembering that might help.” He pulled her to him and kissed her.

When he let go she gasped, “Come back.”

“What?”

“When you finish. Come back. We’ll finish what we started.”

“It might be very late.”

“I don’t care.”

He smiled at her and kissed her cheek. “All right.” With that, he was soon off.

This left Belle with unexpected free time. She cleaned what little there was to clean. She watched some telly. She picked at the candy floss. She took a nap. She had just about given up hope when he returned.

The smouldering look was something Belle had been perfecting for some time. What greeted her on the other side of her door beat anything she could do on her best day. The intensity of his stare made her step back.

Peter took the opportunity to step inside. As soon as the door slammed, she was in his arms and he was attacking her mouth with his own. They made their way down the hall, divesting Peter of his coat and jacket along the way.

When they reached their destination, Peter picked Belle up and with very little grace, dropped her onto the sofa. She pulled herself up enough to get to work on his shirt buttons. He busied himself by dragging his mouth across her clavicle. He then moved to his trousers. He stopped her from doing anything more than opening them.

He dragged his hands down her legs and helped her out of her shoes. Then he removed her underwear in one swift motion. The box of condoms was where they had left it on the floor. With a bit of manoeuvring he was between her legs, most of his clothes still on.

It didn’t take long as they were plenty worked up from before. Though Peter finished first, he made sure Belle found her own release. They found themselves panting, Belle still sitting mostly on the cushion and Peter on his knees resting against her. Then she started to laugh.

“What? Was it that bad?”

“No, not at all. It’s just…hello Peter!”

He joined her in chuckling. “Hello Belle.”

They eventually lost what clothing was left. They never made it beyond the sofa, but they did find some creative uses for the candy floss. And Belle would have to retrieve another box from the bathroom after the night was through.

Morning found them entwined, sticky and contently worn out. She had discovered that Peter liked to have his lower abdomen stroked after. So, Belle ran her fingers between his navel and groin and Peter ran his across her back.

“I know I said it before, but I really do enjoy this,” Peter said with a stretch.

Belle decided to take a chance. She propped herself up to look him the eye. “So do it more often.”

“As much as I’d love to, I really can’t. I don’t know if you are aware of this but you are my entertainment budget outside of my digital box.”

“We’ll work something out. A loyal customer discount across the board.” She hoped it didn’t sound like what it was: a desperate attempt to keep him in her bed or on her sofa at least.

“Maybe. It couldn’t be every week. Or even every other. Every three? Would that be doable?”

“Oh yes. That’s settled then. Now, how much longer ‘til you have to go?”

Peter checked his watch. “There’s some time.”

She reached down and found an unused packet. “Good.”

After that round Peter checked his watch again. “Now I must motivate. I’d ask you to join me but shower sex…”

“I agree. There are angles and slipping and water and hot and cold spots. It’s just not worth it.

“Baths on the other hand…”

“You like baths?”

“Another dark secret. Yes I do.”

“Hmm. Something to remember.”

“I’m sure there’s quite a story to all you remember.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flirting with song lyrics (even misheard ones) and Belle tells the truth, in spite of herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[**kalleah**](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/) made this whole thing better. [Belle's outfit](http://pics.livejournal.com/misssara11/gallery/000105rk).

Peter and Belle lounged in her bed doing their post-coital stroking. He lent down to kiss her and pulled back, a bit surprised.

“What?”

“You’ve quit smoking!”

“About a month and a half ago, yeah. You just now noticed? You’re slipping, Detective.”

“It probably took that long for all the smokiness to fade.”

“You never said it bothered you before. “

“Didn’t think I had the right.”

“But you like this better.”

“Most certainly.” He dipped back to kiss her again, this time not stopping. They were content to do just that. He was staying the night again so there was no hurry. Though neither wanted to say nor had a clue that either thought that this was very much like a normal relationship and they didn’t mind that one bit.

Even if his financial situation was different, she would have still made up the discount. As it was, he was her lowest paying client, let alone regular.

They went back to the stroking. Seemingly out of the blue, Peter said, “Because it’s not complicated.”

“What’s not complicated?”

“This. Why I come here. I never answered your question a while back.”

“Oh. How do you mean?”

“Well, we don’t have any hidden agendas. I know what you do. You know why I come here. The fact that I quite enjoy it and I’m pretty sure you do too, is just a bonus.”

“Huh. Guess that’s true.”

“You’re like that Queen song.”

“Which one?”

“ _Killer Queen_. You know that one part. How’s it go?” He looked at the ceiling as if it had the answers and then sang in his imperfect voice, “Found her way to China. Complications minor.”

Belle sat up at that. “Those aren’t the lyrics.”

“Yes, they are.”

“No, they’re not.”

“I know my Queen lyrics. I’m older than you. I was alive when the single was released. I know I’m right.”

“Then getting older’s making you feeble minded. You. Are. Wrong.” She punctuated each of those words with a poke to his chest. “I’ll prove it to you.” She hopped out of bed and slipped into her dressing gown.

Peter smirked at her until his trousers connected with his head. “Come on then. Don’t want you claiming I tampered with the evidence.” He hopped into them and followed along behind her, taking the time to watch her hips sway.

They ended up in the kitchen/sitting room. Some place he didn’t recall spending much, if any, time in. Belle flipped open her laptop and while it booted up, she played with her iPod. When she was satisfied, she popped it into her stereo and hit play. The snapping fingers and tinkling piano signified the very song they were discussing. She went back to the computer and typed and clicked a bit, then motioned him over. “See? I was right.”

Peter walked right up behind her and placed his hand on the table on either side of her, blocking her in. She really didn’t mind and subtly pushed her hips back into his. “Not necessarily. This is one of those sites that anyone can post.”

“Alright, let’s try another. Ha! Same thing. _Met a man from China. Went down to Geisha Minah…_ “

He sniffed. “Coincidence.”

“Fine, I have it on repeat. Listen!” They hummed along and Belle hushed him and pointed to the air. “There!”

“Hmm. I’m not ready to fully concede. People hear want they want. I will say the song does remind me of someone though.” He nuzzled his nose into her hair.

“Suppose it does. Part of it at least. I do keep those in my liquor cabinet, though mine’s pretty plain. Like cake. I’ll eat caviar but as we discussed, I’ve quit the fags. My etiquette is passable. I _am_ extraordinarily nice.” She arched into him.

Peter raised his hand to her stomach. “That you are,” he growled into her ear.

“I have lived here for a long time but I do plenty of out calls, so that bit could apply. I don’t think I’ve had a Chinese client and while I’ve been to Asia, I don’t think that’s a real place. I don’t drive. I’m quite playful. Never had a gun or a laser. I do like the occasionally jelly. And I don’t wear perfume.”

He sniffed her neck. “You don’t, do you.”

“A professional never leaves her client smelling of woman and I only wear men’s deodorant.”

“But if the time is well spent, and I can say from experience, it is, you leave them smelling of sex.”

“Never thought of that.”

“So you have a string of clients who have failed relationships because their partners thought they caught them bumming.”

“Yeah, but the relationship couldn’t have been that strong to begin with. And I’m still extraordinarily nice.” She turned in his arms and raised her eyebrows and smirked. “Wanna try?”

“I believe I do.”

As Belle led Peter back to her bed, something occurred to her. Flirting was part of the job. She had had plenty of clients who did it well. Not only was Peter in the top ten, she had never enjoyed that aspect of her job as much as she did at that moment or any time she was with him.

When they had finished, they resumed the stroking. Belle let her fingers drift across his scar. Peter squirmed a bit then settled as she focused her attention there. “When did you have it done? Your appendix removed?”

“I was fourteen. In the full bloom of puberty and my nurse was beautiful. I embarrassed myself in front of her more than once. I was a randy wee git. I thought I was quite smooth. When I attempted to flirt, my voice cracked. She was so kind about it that it was actually worse than if she had laughed at me. She did contribute to a large percent of my masturbatory fantasies for years to come. Grew out of that.”

“The masturbation?”

“No, the fantasies of her.”

They shared a quiet laugh and soon fell asleep.

* * *

  
Two weeks later Belle awaited Peter’s arrival. It was a short visit night, but she still put in the effort.

Her hair was up in a twist. She did a turn in front of her mirror to check the outfit. It was a camisole/boy short combo. The silk was a beige-y pink with an abstract white floral design. The top was trimmed in white lace and the straps of the same silk. The boy shorts sat low on her hips. The bottom front had the lace while the back just covered her bum, which she gave a bit of a shake. She had once again chanced the La Perla in the hopes he didn’t get ill this time.

Before she could put on shoes or a dressing gown, the buzzer went. She let him in and called Ben. When she opened the door, she was met with a look even more devastating that anything she’d ever seen before. Belle swallowed hard and stepped back to let Peter in.

“Do you want to head back?” She pointed to the loo.

He took of his coat and folded it over his arm. “I don’t think so. Come with me.” He led her to the sitting room off the bedroom. He slipped an envelope out of a pocket, and then set his coat and that on the coffee table. He sat on the sofa. “Come here.”

She did and he pulled her onto his lap and turned her so she as facing the same direction he was and straddling his legs. One hand drifted across her chest while the other toyed with her waistband.

“I’m going to tell you some things. I’m going to be brutally honest, as I feel like I can with you. I’m normally a very jealous, selfish man." His hand went inside her shorts and started to stroke her. Belle gasped. “And yet, I know you sleep with other men. Not only does the thought not make me angry, it turns me on.”

She tried not to squirm. “Oh really.”

“Yes.” He dipped one finger, then another inside her. “Imagining how you move. What you wear for them. What your hair and make up is like.” He kissed her neck as his higher hand pulled down a strap to better fondle a breast. “Thinking about you coming. Knowing what you look like when you come for me.” He paused when he felt her stiffen. “Ah. You don’t come for them. Not really.” He went back to it, his fingers alternating between thrusting in and out and just stroking. There was no rhythm to it and it was driving her mad. “I know when you’re faking. But they don’t have a clue. Oh, that’s even better. I’m the only one who does this to you, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” she gasped before she could stop herself. Belle raised one hand to his neck and laid the other on the arm working her chest.

“Good. Did you know now that I’m having sex on a regular basis, I wank a lot more? That’s your doing. Every morning in the shower I’m calling out your name. At headquarters, a stray thought leaves me behind my desk much longer than it should. I’ll come close to making a fool of myself at a crime scene simply because a passer-by has your hair colour. I have incredible self-control but that’s how much power you have over me.” He curled the fingers inside her and she almost completely bucked off of him. “You cannot be attracted to every client. What do you do to get ready for them? How do you get wet? Who do you think of?”

She had already had the truth slip out once. No reason to stop now. Almost without breath she answered, “Anymore, I think of you.”

“Good.”

“I could arrange…oh God…for you to watch some time.”

“No, I like thinking about it. I don’t want to see it. I want to leave some things to the imagination.” He moved faster. She could feel in her back that she wasn’t the only one affected. A few more thrusts and crooks and she was climaxing hard.

As she came down and even after, he continued to stroke her, leaving a pleasant hum running through her whole body.

If Belle wasn’t completely sated and had no desire to move ever again, she would have smacked Peter until he lost the smug smile she could feel against her neck. He shifted a bit and his erection was even more prominent as it curved against her bottom. She knew he wouldn’t make a move until she said and it was a comfort to know she still had some power.

She gathered herself together and prepared for what she had no doubt would be one of the greatest shags of her life, when her personal mobile went off. She was going to ignore it and did the first time, when it went off again. With a reluctant sigh, she got off of Peter’s lap and answered. Her mother was on the other end. While they talked Peter’s phone went off.

“Yeah Mum, I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Promise.”

Peter had walked out of the room to take care of his business. “I don’t have to go. I could tell them to bugger off for a bit.”

“Good to know you’re so committed to your job.”

“Can’t concentrate with a skyscraper in my pants.”

“As much as I want to, I have to go. My dad’s latest DIY went pear shaped and he and my mum are in Casualty at the moment.”

“Nothing serious, I hope.”

“I don’t think so. Mum seems more annoyed than worried. Probably just needs stitches and make sure there’s no concussion.”

“Sounds like you’ve done this before.”

“Yep. Dad sometimes thinks he should have his own daytime show. He really shouldn’t.”

Peter waited for her to dress and they walked out together. After a quick kiss and confirmation of plans for the next week, he turned for the Tube and she hailed a cab.

On her trip, it hit her that he just may feel the same way about her as she him. Or he was an incredible actor.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peter asks the wrong question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[**kalleah**](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/) made this whole thing better.

They lounged in the tub. A fortress of towels soaking up the water and bath salts that had sloshed out during the earlier events had been built up. Currently, Belle was massaging Peter’s feet.

“Shouldn’t I be the one doing that?”

She tutted at him. “It’s all…”

“A part of the service. Well, I will be reciprocating later.” They sat quietly for a bit, then on mutual agreement, got out as the water was getting cold.

The whole thing came to be in a roundabout sort of way.

Belle knew the type of day Peter was having based on the way he took her. A good day, he was playful. A bad day, as expected, he took her hard. An emotional day, he was very attentive and caring. Big break or even a case solved, he was a little more adventurous and daring. And so on. It was an overnighter again but when he arrived, food in hand, he just seemed tired. So, she shuffled him off to the tub and they had lazy, wet sex.

Belle pointed him onto the bed, facing the rest of the room and climbed onto his back. He offered no resistance as she started to knead his muscles. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “Go to sleep. I want you fully rested for the remainder of our time.” He murmured something she took as agreement and finished up his back, then covered him with a blanket. After slipping into her robe, she propped herself up at the correct end of the bed and pulled out a book.

About an hour and a half later, Belle felt something on her foot. She flinched it away but it continued. Over the top of her book she saw Peter dragging a finger over her arch.

When he saw he was caught, he just smiled and lifted her foot to kiss it and repeated the process with the other one. He then crawled up her body, pressing his lips to her along the way. Soon the book was forgotten, as was the dressing gown, as they wordlessly joined together, once again unhurried in their actions. During the usual routine, she raised her head to look at him.

“How can you tell? When I’m faking and when I’m not, that is.”

He looked at her and with all seriousness answered, “The noises you make. You’re much more…vocal, for lack of a better word, when it’s not real. No, a genuine orgasm, you’re all gasps, sighs and moans that you can’t or do not want to control. The other times it’s very precise yells. I must admit, in the beginning there, you fooled me. But then I had the pleasure of experiencing the real thing.”

“Hmm.”

“Also, you…” he paused. “Never mind.”

“What?” She may have started the line of conversation but she was going to make sure he finished it.

“You clench differently.”

“I clench differently.”

“Yes. When it’s fake, your clenches are very controlled. You know just what to do to please who you’re with. When you naturally come you’re unpredictable. Sometimes it’s short spasms. Others it’s like the most pleasant vice grip ever created. I don’t know why this honour has been bestowed upon me nor do I want to. I’m just enjoying the ride.”

“Well, I did ask. And now I know I can’t put anything past you. Worse things have happened.” She let her hand drift down and started stroking him.

With a shift and a grunt, Peter relaxed into it. “Have you ever had someone fake on you?”

“Yes. Though men can’t fake it as well. You lot sort of have a give away there.”

“That we do.” His eyes drifted shut. A bit later with a gasp and moan he expelled his own give away.

She went off to the loo to clean herself off. She returned with a flannel to do the same for him and found him asleep. She wiped up and tucked him in. She supposed even Batman needed his rest. Belle turned back to her book and eventually fell asleep herself.

She awoke to find Peter’s hand on her hip, his thumb sweeping across the skin. “Hungry?”

“A bit peckish, yes.” It had become the norm during most of his nights over to have a Marmite break. They chatted about music and television.

Peter yawned. “I’m sorry. Please don’t take this as a reflection on the company. It’s just everything’s caught up with me. Lot of long nights these past few weeks. We caught the main suspect this weekend and I’m just now starting to decompress. I feel like I can do that around you.”

“I’m glad. Come on. Let’s get you rested up so I can give you a memorable morning.” She stood and extended her hand to him.

He accepted and let himself be pulled up. “How can I possibly turn down an offer like that?”

He got back into her bed but as Belle went to leave, he grabbed her arm. “Stay?”

Her eyes softened. “Yeah.” She climbed next to him as he covered them with the duvet. Then Peter wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. He was soon back asleep and she joined him, being lulled by the feeling of his breath on her hair and neck.

As the sun began to stream in through the partially parted curtains, Belle rolled over and stroked the side of Peter’s face. He smiled without opening his eyes. “I was thinking of something else when you made your earlier promise but this is memorable too.” He puckered his lips.

‘So,’ Belle thought to herself, ‘he’s going to make me do all the work then.’ As she leaned forward to kiss him, he surprised her by flipping them so that he was on top of her.

The kiss was far from what one would expect the drowsy man she’d woken up next to would give. That didn’t stop her from giving back just as much. It was shaping up to be a memorable morning for both of them.

They both rolled to their sides to look at one another. Peter reached out and brushed her hair behind her ear. “Tell me your name.”

She froze. “You know my name. It’s Belle.”

“No, your real name.”

“How do you know that isn’t it?” She sat up and got out of bed.

“Job like this? No, you use a pseudonym. I understand why.”

She shoved her arms into her dressing gown. “Belle is who I am. This is who I am and what I do.”

He followed suit and was soon putting on his own clothing. “I could find out, you know, but I respect you too much to do that.”

“Then respect what I’m telling you now. I provide a service. You pay for that service. Simple as that.” She was panicking and she didn’t know why. Both sides of herself, Belle and Hannah, were battling it out and in this moment Belle was winning.

“But it’s not as simple as that, is it?”

“Maybe not. But the truth is this: I’m a high end escort. You’re a lonely man who found me on the Internet and is now paying for my company.” She crossed her arms and glared at him.

Peter paused in buttoning his shirt. “I thought we…” He dropped his head, clearly defeated.

“Thought what Peter?” Part of her was screaming inside that if he would just say it, she would fall into his arms and tell him everything. But even then she would never make the first move. She wasn’t about to start such things.

He yanked on his shoes, not bothering to tie them then looked her at her, eyes hard and cold. “That’s it then. You’re the whore and I’m the punter.”

She wouldn’t back down. “Seems like.”

“Fine.” He grabbed his things and left with a slam of the door.

Belle collapsed onto the bed. She would not cry. She refused to.

To her complete shock, Peter showed up at his usual time the next week and the week after and the week after that. He no longer stayed over. They didn’t kiss. They barely spoke. He would arrive on time, conduct business, take his shower, they would have sex, and he would redress and leave.

She always laughed at the bit in _Pretty Woman_ when Edward said he never made Vivian feel like a prostitute. What else could she feel like? If a woman got paid for shagging, there was only one thing she was.

Belle often felt like her occupation. This was the first time it ever bothered her. And yet she couldn’t tell him to stay away.

When she couldn’t bottle it in any longer, she called Ben.

“So DI Wonderful wasn’t all that then?” He stretched his arm across the back of the sofa.

“Yes. No. I mean, it’s complicated.”

“What happened?”

“He asked me my name.”

“And?”

“I freaked out.” She sat next to him, pulling her feet under her and turned to face him.

“I thought you liked this guy. I don’t understand.”

“I do like him. And I think that’s why I’m afraid that if he knew the real me, he wouldn’t want me anymore.”

He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Don’t be daft. I happen to think you’re pretty great most of the time.”

“Yeah?” He nodded. Before either of them knew it, she was kissing him and he her. Ben only stopped her when she put her hand down his trousers.

“Han. Jesus, Han, stop.” He pushed her back.

“Don’t you want me either?” She was on the edge of tears.

He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Hannah, listen to me. Physically I think you’re beautiful, I always have. But you are my best friend. Nothing else. We tried other stuff. It didn’t work. And I’m glad because I wouldn’t trade what we are now for anything. That being said, business is business and I’d rather be your partner for couples than anyone else because then I know you’re safe. If this happened, we’d only hate ourselves. I’ve learned from you sex for business is one thing. With feelings, it’s another. You’re only doing this because you’re hurting. Sleeping with me won’t hurt him. Only you and me.”

She sobbed. “Oh Ben, I’ve messed up, haven’t I?”

“Well, he’s an idiot for not doing anything.” He pulled her close again. She wrapped her arms around him. “And yes, you mucked it up right and proper.”

She laughed into his shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, Han. Anytime.”


	10. Complications Minor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still distracted from last time, Belle gets in over head and has to call for rescue.  
>  **Warning:** This chapter contains attempted rape and physical abuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[**kalleah**](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/) made this whole thing better. And in the last part of this chapter, [what Belle wears](http://pics.livejournal.com/misssara11/gallery/000112y4).

Belle was still out of sorts. Of course she hadn’t approached Peter, but she didn’t push him away, either. It was affecting the rest of her work as well. While she wasn’t sloppy, if clients paid attention, there was a decline in quality, as it were.

She was on her way to an out call at The Grand at Trafalgar Square. The client was new but she recognized his name from when she was still working under Stephanie. If she remembered correctly, the other girls said he was demanding and picky. He had asked her to wear a camisole, flimsy skirt and a thong. The weather was warmer so she decided to forgo a jacket. When she stepped out of the cab, a breeze caused her to rub her arms.

She sailed through the lobby as she always did and called Ben when she stepped out of the lift. He reminded her that after her next call, he would have his mobile off as he’d be in the cinema but she should leave a message when she left. And once again changed his mind and said he’d leave it on or at least sneak out and check his messages. Belle took the time to remind him that she’d done this plenty of times before, she’d be just fine and needled him a bit as this was the first date he had had since splitting with Vanessa.

“Call you in a minute.” She knocked. The door was soon opened by a man in his early 40s. He was tall and solid. The words ‘football hooligan’ came to mind to describe him. “Tony? I’m Belle. I believe you were expecting me.”

He stepped back to let her in. “Yeah.” He walked over to the side table and picked up an envelope. Belle held her hand out expectantly. “Turn around first. Good.” And the underwear? Excellent.” He handed over the money. “Would you like a drink?” He poured some vodka into one of the provided coffee mugs.

“No thank you, but help yourself. What brings you to London? You said on the phone it was a trip.”

“Business. I’m being courted by several investors.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“It’s really isn’t. I’m going to pop in the shower. When I come back, I’d like you on the bed with the skirt and shoes off.”

“Yes sir!” As soon as she heard the water, she called Ben. “And you didn’t shave your legs, right?”

“What?”

“Never shave your legs on a first date. It’s guaranteed you won’t let things go too far.”

“I’m leaving my mobile on vibrate.”

“Don’t. Really. It’s okay.

He knew she wouldn’t give in on this. “Have fun, Han.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” While she was talking, she kicked off her shoes and slid out of the skirt, laying it over a stuffed chair. She positioned herself on the bed and leaned back on her elbows, pushing her chest forward.

Tony came out of the bathroom, using the towel to dry his hair instead of wrapping it around his waist. He paused to take her in. “Very nice. Lie back for me.”

She did as he asked and watched from the corner of her eye as he slipped a condom on. He climbed on to the bed from the foot and ran his hands up her legs, then dragging them back down, bringing the thong with them. He shoved the camisole up and grabbed her breasts. He was suddenly inside of her, holding her arms above her head.

He was rougher than she liked. The grip he had on her wrists bordered on painful but none of it was anything she couldn’t handle. Without warning, he flipped her over and took her that way. His body held hers down on the bed. He still kept her hands trapped.

Not soon enough, he groaned and rolled off her. She heard him flip off the condom. She turned over and righted her top. “That was…” she tried to think of something, “nice.”

“Yep.” Stunning conversationalist this one was. She waited for him to say something else. Since the blow up with Peter her ideas for chit chat were few and far between. He spoke a couple of minutes later. “You do anal right?”

“As long as there’s enough lube, yes I do. I should have a bottle in my bag.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed.

As she stood up, he called to her. “And put the skirt back on.” It was hardly the strangest request she ever had but something in his voice made her pause. She brushed it off as it missing the intimacy she was accustomed to with her regulars and the nervousness of most of the single session clients. She did as he asked and figured the sooner she complied, the sooner she would be out of there.

Belle smiled at Tony as she stroked him a bit to get him harder. Some might think the move seductive. She did it so he wouldn’t last long. She sheathed and lubricated then turned away and got onto her hands and knees.

For all her posturing, she didn’t actually do this all that often and it had been awhile. He wasn’t that large but nonetheless, she felt stretched almost to the point of pain. He didn’t bother to see if she was comfortable before he started thrusting away.

“Do you like that?”

When one was being paid to do such an act, there was really only one answer. “Uh huh.”

“Yeah. Thought so. You seem the type.” It was a good thing Belle was facing away from him because her eye roll was immense. “That’s right. You’re all the same. You look and sound like a lady but you’re just a dirty bitch who’s gagging for it. Moan for me you slag.”

She was getting anxious so she complied. Once again, it was his tone. She never minded being called names before. For most men that came to her, it was their first time engaging in dirty talk and it gave them, and her, a thrill in being so free. And by the basic definition of the word, she was a slag. As she was unable to use most of her tricks to finish him off due to their positions, she just shut her eyes and hoped he’d be done soon.

He finished with a yell and lied back on the bed. His breath slowed. She looked over her shoulder and found his eyes closed. Carefully and quietly, Belle got out of bed. She had to hunt for her underwear before being able to slip them on.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She turned to find him staring at her, eyes hard and free of any sort of warmth.

“The hour’s almost up. Just thought I’d pull myself together.”

“Stay.”

“That’s nice but I have to…”

“It wasn’t a request. Now get back here!” With each word, his volume rose.

“You paid for an hour and that time is up.”

“I paid for this room as well. Now, you’re going to come back here.”

“No.”

In a flash, he’d thrown her back to the bed, pinning her down by straddling her waist. When he stood, she attempted to get free. He stopped her by slapping her cheek hard. It felt as if her face was going to explode. When she went to check for broken skin, he took the opportunity to rip her skirt from the bottom up.

“STOP IT!” Belle was truly panicked now.

“No.” Tony grabbed the bottle of vodka and smashed it against the wall. He took a larger shard and sliced through the straps of her camisole. He then used it to score the front and tear it open as well. “Don’t tell me this doesn’t turn you on. You sluts are all the same.”

“Why didn’t the other girls tell me about you?” She though if she could keep him talking she could distract him. No such luck as he grabbed another shard and ran it up her thigh.

“Because I haven’t done this before. I was saving it for someone special. You’ll have to do.” He sliced through the elastic of her thong on one side, the other side of the glass biting into her skin. When he did the opposite side, a drop of alcohol fell into the new cut. She cried out. “That’s it. Keep doing that. You know you want it.”

He tossed away the scrap that used to be her underwear. He held her arms by her wrists with his hands and kicked opened her legs. It was obvious what he was planning. He advanced the small distance between them.

With strength she didn’t know she had, she swung one leg, then the other between his. She pulled her knees to her chest then shoved them forward, sending him tumbling backwards. She took her chance and bolted for the door, picking up her bag along the way.

Tony had thrown all the locks and in her haze, she fumbled with them. Suddenly she was yanked back by an ankle. When she landed, her chin hit the floor with a thud and she bit down hard on her upper lip. She was dragged across the carpet. When she came to a stop, she yelped as he kicked her in the side repeatedly.

“You like it rough. Quit playing coy. Don’t worry slag. I’m going to give it to you good.” He stood above her, imposing and stroking himself.

She wiped the blood from her mouth. “You’re a pig.”

“And you like that.”

The contents of her bag scattered when he’d thrown her to the floor. She grabbed and threw the item closest to her at his head. While he was stunned, she picked up her business mobile and locked herself in the bathroom.

Tony pounded the door. “Open up you bitch! You’ll have to come out eventually. And when you do we’ll see about adjusting your attitude.”

Belle took several deep, shaky breaths. She picked up her phone and almost dropped it when there was another bang on the door.

“Belle.” Tony sang from the other side. “I get it. You’re doing the hard to get thing. I can roll with that.”

She dialled. It went straight to voice mail. “Damn it Ben! Turn your phone back on!” She tried ten more times. Her battery was going. She shut her eyes and dialled again.

* * *

  
Peter brooded at his desk. He’d been in a funk ever since that night and it showed. His DCI had reprimanded him more than once about conduct and procedure. He really didn’t care at this point.

A plate appeared before him. Monty sat in his own chair across from him into his line of sight. “Eat.”

“Not hungry.”

“Too bad. I won’t let you destroy yourself. I care too much for that to happen. And I don’t have time to break in another partner. So, if you go down, I’m coming with you. My lifestyle can’t afford to take that kind of hit. So eat. I’m not above feeding you myself. What do you prefer? Airplane or choo choo train?“

Peter did smile at that. “You’re a wanker Pippin. You know that?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. It’s one of my better qualities.” Monty studied him over steepled fingers. “You still really like her. Don’t you?”

“She’s under my skin. She’s a drug I can’t kick the habit of. Don’t want to. But she seems to not want me.”

“I hate to say it but maybe you have to go cold turkey. It may hurt like hell in the beginning but you’ll be better off in the long run.”

“Easier said than done, my friend.” Monty just nodded. Peter’s mobile went off. “Carlisle.”

“Peter?”

“Belle? What’s wrong?” Weak and vulnerable were two words he’d never use to describe her in the time he’d known her. And yet that’s all her voice conveyed in that moment.

“Peter, I’m in trouble. There’s this man.” She whimpered as he heard a slam on what sounded like a door. “I didn’t know. If I knew, I’d never come. Peter, I swear I didn’t know.”

“Where are you?” He was already putting on his trench coat, leaving his jacket behind. Monty gave him an inquisitive look. Peter halted him with a hand.

“The Grand at Trafalgar Square. Room 309. I’ve locked myself in the bathroom.”

“Good. Stay right there. I’m on my way. Don’t open that door for anyone but me.”

“Please hurry. I don’t know what else he’s capable of.”

“What’s his name?”

“Tony. Tony Quince. That’s what he told me anyway. My battery’s almost gone. Please Peter.”

“I’ll be there so fast you’ll not have time to miss me.” Her side went dead. “Look up anything you can on a Tony Quince. Then send backup to The Grand at Trafalgar Square, room 309. That’s not that far from here, right?” He was already on his way out.

“Peter, don’t do anything stupid.”

“You know me.”

“As I said.” Peter heard Monty mobilising everyone as he made his way out. Once he made it outside, he was a man on a mission. He crossed streets without paying much attention to oncoming traffic. Big Ben chimed in the hour as he reached the doors to the hotel. He flashed his badge at the clerk.

“We’ve received a call about something in room 309. Backup is on its way. Please tell you manager. The back-up should have an ambulance on stand-by. When they show up, let them wait down here.”

“Yes sir. Anything else?”

“No, but thank you.”

The lift took forever to arrive and even longer to go up. The closest stair case was at the end of a long hall and it was three flights up, so he cursed the inventor of the lift as he waited. He straightened his coat and knocked. “Hotel security.”

The door opened and he assumed the man clad only in his trousers was Tony Quince. Quince was larger than he was but he knew if necessary, he could take him.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, sir. The guest staying in the room before you claims to have left behind some valuables. You know how it is; they say housekeeping stole them when most likely they just forgot. Do you mind terribly if I had a look?”

“Actually…”

“Sir, it will only take a minute.”

“Sure. Whatever.”

Peter stepped inside; careful to be sure the door didn’t close all the way by subtly kicking the rubber door stop in the jam. He made a show of going through the drawers then taking in the rest of the room. He toed one of the used condoms on the floor. “Didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

“Nah. We were done. For now. She threw a strop and stormed out. You know how women can be. She’ll be back begging for more. You know the type.” He was starting to get twitchy.

“Certainly packed light for a mini-break.”

“Yeah. Don’t need much, if you know what I mean. It’s not like I’m the type of bloke who has to pay for it!” He clipped Peter’s shoulder and laughed.

Peter just raised an eyebrow, clearly not amused. “You’d be surprised the type of man who hires an escort. Sometimes they don’t want strings. Sometimes they’re lonely. Sometimes they find something they didn’t know they were missing.” Peter looked Tony dead on, eyes cold. “And sometimes they think they can get away with perverse and disrespectful things. Why is there a broken bottle on the floor?”

“Mini-bar accident.”

“They don’t have mini-bars in these rooms. What about the bit of lace over there?” He put his hands in his pockets, balling them up. He nodded toward what was left of the thong.

“We were in a hurry.”

“And why is it cut up?”

“The missus likes it a bit kinky.”

“Where did you say she went?”

“I don’t think it’s any of your business.” Quince took a step toward Peter, his fingers making a fist of their own.

“That’s where we differ because I think it is.”

“What would you care about a worthless slut like that?”

“I really wouldn’t call her that if I were you.”

“Why not? It’s what she is.” They were almost toe-to-toe. “I think you better leave.”

“No.” Quince swung and connected with Peter’s jaw. Peter spun onto the floor, the back of one hand landing in the broken glass. He looked up laughing. “Thank you.”

“What for, you raving lunatic?”

“Because, now,” he reached into his coat pocket, “I have you bang to rights.” He proudly displayed his badge. “And, this is self-defence.” He tackled him at the waist. He punctuated his statements with blows to the face. “You’re lucky to breathe the same air as her. Never touch her, call her, come near her, or even think of her again because if you do, I’ll know. Am I clear?”

Quince nodded. “Good.” He let his guard down and Quince took the opportunity to flip them, grabbing a piece of glass again. Peter blocked its down swing with his injured hand and cried out as it sliced through the skin. He then bestowed the man with a Glasgow kiss, causing Tony’s head to snap back. Peter went to punch him again.

“Carlisle! That’s enough!” His superior was in the doorway surrounded by uniformed officers.

Monty was halfway into the room. “Anthony Quince, I am arresting you on warrants for violation of parole, aggravated assault, attempted rape, violation of a restraining order and whatever else scum-of-the-earth thing you did here.”

“Add assaulting an officer of the law to that list.” Peter looked at him with his most smug expression.

Monty quirked a brow and smiled. “Gladly. And Mr. Quince? You did swing first. We’ve watched the whole ordeal, so don’t claim his word again yours. Come with us, big boy.” Quince was dragged to his feet, cuffed and read his rights.

Peter let Monty help him up and said, “Can you get everyone out of here for a few minutes? I don’t want her any more frightened than she already is.”

“No problem man.”

When the room was empty, he knocked on the bathroom door. “Belle? It’s Peter. It’s okay. He’s gone.” The door opened and he suddenly had his arms full of quietly sobbing woman. He hugged her and she tightened her grip on him. “It’s all right, sweetheart. We got him. You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to but I’d appreciate it if you did. Or at least tell someone, okay?” He felt her nod against him. He gently stepped her back and took a good look at her. He ran a finger over her bloodied lip. When he saw the state of what was left of her clothes, he shrugged out of his trench coat and handed it to her. “Put this on.” He turned away to give her at least some sense of dignity. He heard her hiss and had to stop himself from finding the bastard and finishing him off.

“I never fall apart.” He turned back to find her tightening the belt around her waist. She looked him in the eye. “I don’t get scared. I know when something’s off and put a stop to it. Why didn’t I know this time? Why would anyone do this?” She started to collapse.

He caught her and swept her up into his arms. “I don’t have those answers, I’m afraid. Let’s get you checked out. Are you going to press charges?”

She curled into his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Absolutely. If I can stop this from happening again, I will. Whatever I can do. Castration’s legal right?”

He laughed. “Not yet.” He carried her out into the hall and addressed one of the uniforms. “Please make sure the lady’s belongings are returned to her. Thanks.” He carried her all the way to the ambulance. She begged him to stay with her during the exam of her obvious injuries and he happily complied. He stepped outside when they had to open the coat but he listened in as they asked questions. He controlled his anger as she explained the cutting, the slap and the kicking. The medics asked him back when they could get no more out of her.

“They want to know if…I had sex with him. You know that. And if they check, they will too.”

“They can’t without your permission.” He took a deep breath. “Did he?” He closed his eyes. “Did he rape you?”

“No. But he was going to.” She took his hand and he opened his eyes. She was smiling. “I threw a vibrator at his head and it stunned him enough to give me time to run to the loo.”

He grinned at that. “Clever girl.” It was his turn to hiss when she took his other hand.

“You’re hurt!”

“I’m fine.”

“You are not.” She yelled, “Help, please!” The medics came back in and fixed Peter up. “My phone! I need my phone. Ben has to know.”

“Let me see.” He returned a bit later. “I found it but the battery’s dead. You can use mine.”

“Thanks.” She dialled. “Ben? I need you. No. No. Yes. Just shut up and when I’m done, don’t you dare blame yourself…”

He left her to her call. He was wrangled away to give his own statement before he could return though. This meant he wouldn’t be involved with the case beyond his own testimony. Part of him was relieved because he knew he’d do a lot worse than punch Quicne if he heard the details of what had happened. Still, if she wanted him for support, he’d be there in a heartbeat. Before he left, he caught her eye, smiled, waved and indicated she could give the phone and his coat to any of the uniforms. She nodded in understanding and mouthed ‘Thanks’ to which he responded with a nod of his own.

* * *

  
Peter arrived for his usual time and Belle let him in. “Hi.”

“I wasn’t sure if I should come or not. You didn’t say.”

“No. I mean, yeah I wanted you to come. I made it a point to see my regulars this week. A safety cushion. Go on through. What would you like to drink?”

“Anything. Whatever you’ll have.” She joined him a minute later and handed him a glass. As she sat, she crossed her legs and the tops of her stockings peeked out of the bottom of her kimono. He took a sip and asked, “How are you?”

“Better. Still a bit bruised. No one’s noticed that I’m wearing dark lipstick in the summer.”

He had, but only because he knew what was beneath. “Show me?”

She retrieved a tissue and wiped the lip colour away. The marks were still angry-looking. He trailed a finger over the wounds and then pulled away.

“Where was your security?”

“I had called him at the beginning and then he went on a date and his phone was off. I even told him to do it. He didn’t want to but I’m the professional and know better. I though everything was okay. I tried calling him.” She looked away. “When I couldn’t get through, I dialled the safest person I could think of.”

He lifted her chin to look at her. She stood and took his injured hand, kissing the still bandaged knuckles. She then led him to the bed.

“Don’t I need to..?” He nodded his head toward the bathroom.

“No. I trust you and I can’t wait that long.” She sat him down and stood between his legs, moving his hands to the sash. He pulled it open and trailed his fingers over her bruised torso. When he looked at her in question, she answered. “I’ve been wearing chemises all week. The clients never questioned it but I don’t have anything to hide from you. So I wore this.” Her bra was sheer pink lace with black Chantilly lace overlay. The French knickers had the same pink material for the thong and the Chantilly made up the skirt. He pulled her forward by the waist and kissed the injured flesh while his thumbs drifted beneath the lace and traced the cuts on her hips.

He let her take the lead completely. She was careful and slow. Much less domineering than she usually was. When they were finished, they resumed their usual stroking, something they had abandoned after the fight. When he turned to look at the clock, she held him tighter.

“Stay. For a while at least.”

“Of course. For as long as you need me.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Peter met Hannah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[**kalleah**](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/) made this whole thing better. Yes, the book he gives her [is real](http://www.amazon.co.uk/Little-Book-Marmite-Tips-Hartley/dp/1904573770/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1213551609&sr=1-1).

Peter paid for his coffee and turned to find a seat.

“Detective? Here’s a pastry. On the house. I set it aside special for you, in case you came in today.” The girl winked at him. Shareece was just on this side of legal and had had a schoolgirl crush on him ever since he started visiting the café. For his part, he never did anything more than a friendly smile or asked how her day was. Monty would have been all over her if she’d ever shown him any interest and he told Peter as much. In fact, that’s why they started going there. Besides the proximity to various places their work took them, Monty was making it his personal goal to flirt with all the baristas.

This time Peter smiled politely, said, “Thanks” and turned to scan the room for an empty table. His eyes stopped at an occupied one and the small upturn of lips turned into a full-blown grin. When he approached, he cleared his throat and said, “Pardon me, miss, is this seat taken?”

The “miss” in question huffed as was clearly going to tell him to sod off until she saw him. With a smile of her own, she gestured to the empty chair across from her. “No. Help yourself.”

He did and extended his hand. “I’m Peter. And you are…?”

He saw her consider and come to a decision. She took his hand and shook it. “Hannah Baxter.”

“Hannah. Hannah.” He tried it out, liking the feel of it on his tongue. “It suits you.”

“My parents thought so. So, Peter, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a DI at Scotland Yard.”

“Sounds sexy.”

“You’d think so. But the brochures don’t tell you about the paperwork involved. That bit they don’t put on telly or in films. What about you?”

“I tell everyone that I’m a night-time legal secretary. But do you want to know the truth?”

“Of course.”

“I’m a high class prostitute. Simply put, I shag men for money and I enjoy my work.”

They both turned at the clattering sound behind them. Two older women had dropped their teacups and were giving them disapproving looks.

When they turned back, Peter and Hannah put their heads together while they attempted to stifle their laughter.

“So, anyway, the only person who knows the whole truth is my best friend Ben, who acts as my security.” She sat back and he followed suit. “And in the interest of full disclosure, he’s my ex and if I have clients that request a couple, he’s my male partner, though that seldom happens and when it does, we rarely do anything together.”

“Doesn’t that put a damper on your social life?”

“That is a social life. But no. Only because I didn’t have a desire for one.”

“And now?”

She turned her head and gave him a coy look. “I’m thinking I’m open to the idea for the right man.”

“Does this mean things bode well for me?”

“I let you sit down, didn’t I?” They shared a genuine smile. “Well, Peter, that very appealing accent of yours isn’t from around here. How did you end up in our quaint little village?”

“We’re telling the truth then?” Hannah nodded. Peter thought if he was going to do this, he might as well do it all the way. Tell her the complete, ugly truth from the beginning. She’d taken a leap already with her name; maybe this would let her know she could trust him with her life as well. “Right. I was born and raised outside of Glasgow. I married a woman I met while I was in the academy. I thought we were happy. She soon left me for another man. I moved to Kendal. In between, I kept getting promoted just to spite my higher-ups. They didn’t like me, the feeling was mutual. But I was damn good at my job and a promotion got me out of their hair.

“While in Kendal, I was sent down to Blackpool to help with the overflow. I was assigned to a murder case that seemed straightforward. It was almost abundantly clear this man did it or knew who did. I was a dog with a bone at that point. Then I met his wife. To begin with, I was using her for information but, well…we had an affair. An intense one at that. And I fell in love. I thought she did too. This made me want to nail her husband even more. I’m not proud to say I turned into something I’m fully capable of turning into again.

“That pesky thing called ‘The Facts’ threw a spanner in the works. Turns out I had right family, wrong member. Their son did it protecting a friend. But that didn’t matter. I was so far gone at that point, I would have done anything. Almost brought down a good cop because of my libido. He didn’t do anything but his job and calling me out for what I had become.

“At their daughter’s wedding I was going in for the kill. The husband and I made a deal. The case disappears, I get Natalie. That’s her name. Natalie. Anyways, I stayed in Blackpool with her. And then…”

Hannah touched his hand. “She went back to her husband.”

“No. That was over. I was just the first step to her newly discovered independence. She only left with me because she needed a push. I wasn’t special. If it wasn’t me, it would have been someone else, I suspect. She’d married young and because she was pregnant. I was a younger man who was exciting and new. From me, she got a taste of all things she missed. She was honest with me about it at least. And she was none too pleased when she found out about my part in it all.

“I had single-handedly destroyed my credibility there, so I put in for a transfer. My DCI there wanted me to fail. Make me a little fish in a big pond. So, he sent me here.

“What he didn’t count on was my tenacity and this environment is what I had always been searching for. They paired me up with someone who’s just as good as I am and even more trouble.”

Hannah sat back again. “Blimey. We make quite the pair. Don’t we?”

Peter smiled and nodded. “With my professional life in order, I had other needs needing tended to. I got on the computer and discovered a lovely woman by the name of Belle. I didn’t count on her being on of the most fascinating, beautiful, pleasant women I’d ever met. I’m pretty sure she liked me too.”

“Sounds like she a bit of a nutter because she’s pretty sure you’re just as charming as you like to think you are. And handsome. And she’s shown you a side to herself very few have ever seen.”

Peter lifted the hand she had resting on his. “Is that so?” His kissed the back of it.

“You know it is.”

“So, if I were to say, ask you to dinner, what would you say?”

“If you were actually asking, I’d say yes.”

“Dinner?”

“You bet.” It had been three weeks since the attack and they were still healing. She flipped his hand over in hers and traced the red marks there. “Looks unpleasant.”

“Injured in the line of duty.”

“Did you get the bad guy?” They both watched her fingers trace over his palm.

“Yeah and I saved the girl along the way.”

She looked up at him through her lashes. “Thank you. I don’t think I can ever say that enough.”

When their eyes locked, they started to lean together. Their eyes were intent on the other’s lips.

“Can I warm that up for you, Detective?” Shareece was holding a coffee pot and beaming at Peter. He looked down at his barely touched cup.

“No, I’m good. Thank you.”

When she turned to Hannah, her demeanour changed completely. With one hand on her hip, she said, “You?” like she had a nasty taste in her mouth.

“No, thank you.” Hannah said in her most polite voice.

With a final look at their hands, Shareece turned with a “Hmph.”

“Someone has a crush. At least she has good taste. And I’ll never get coffee here again when she’s working. She’ll spit in it for sure.”

“Well, I’ll just have to get it for you then. Besides, she’s young. She’ll get over me.”

Hannah reached into her bag and handed him her ID. “She’s not that much younger than I am.”

Peter looked at the card and handed it back. “You’re almost twenty-five. You’re older, _much_ more experienced and more than old enough for me. Eleven and a half years be damned.”

“Thirty-seven?”

“Will be.”

“Looks good on you. So this dinner then?”

“Yes, Hannah. I’m going to woo you.”

“You’re going to woo me.” She was amused.

“Oh yes. A proper courting. Which means, if we’re going to do this appropriately, our business arrangement has to end.”

“I’m fine with that. Seems like I’ll still be getting something out of this new deal. Here.” She reached into her bag again and scribbled something down on a card and passed to him.

“What’s this?”

“My number.”

He was confused. “But I have your number.”

“No, you have Belle’s number. That’s mine.” They shared another smile. “I’m suddenly free Tuesday night. That work for you?”

“I say so. I’ll call you with the details.” They walked out together and kissed on the cheek.

“You better.”

* * *

  
Hannah was actually anxious. It was her first proper date as herself since Ben, and that had been back in University. Peter had said to dress nice but not too fancy. She had no idea what that meant.

She had straightened her hair and wore make-up, though less than she would have as Belle. She decided on a dress. Feminine and sexy but not provocative. Fabulous knickers of course.

Peter arrived when he said he would. When Hannah opened the door, she let out an appreciative whistle. “A suit and tie. And not only that, wrinkle-free.”

“Yeah, I keep them in a vault for special occasions. May I?” He gestured into her flat.

“Oh, yes, of course. Come in.” She stepped aside and noticed something in his hand. “That for me?”

Peter looked at the wrapped packaged in had forgot he was holding. “Yes. You didn’t really strike me as a flowers sort of girl and I don’t know the important facts of what kind of sweets to get you. So, I went with what I know. Reading and food stuffs.”

She ripped open the paper. “ _The Little Book of Marmite Tips_. That’s cute.”

“Hey! I searched hard for that! Okay, I ordered off of Amazon but I paid for the shipping and it’s the thought.“

She kissed his cheek. “I love it. Can I get you a drink or something?”

“No, let’s just go.”

She picked up her bag. “Let’s. Where are we going?”

“A place nearby.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and pushed out an elbow to her. Hannah happily accepted.

The sun was just setting and everyone was taking advantage of the last gasp of summer air. This forced Peter and Hannah to walk close and occasionally bump each other. Neither seemed to mind. When they arrived at the small, out-of-the-way restaurant, he held the door for her.

Dinner was quiet and intimate. The restaurant’s atmosphere almost demanded it. He commented on the fact that he was pleased that she ordered actual food. She commented back she had to, he knew the contents of her cupboards. They shared pudding but didn’t do the feeding each other thing as they found it silly and it was only a first date. She reached for the bill when it came and he snatched it away, reminding her that he asked her out and she could treat him another time. Both were well aware they discussed future dates as if they were foregone conclusions. Because they both knew they would be doing this again and again.

Once they had walked back into the street, Hannah took Peter’s hand without saying a word. When he looked at that, then her, she asked, “Is this okay? I mean, I don’t do this very often. When I do it’s because I’m being led somewhere or shown off like a possession. I never get to do it just because I like the bloke.”

He smiled and his eyes turned soft. “It’s more than okay.” He squeezed her fingers and bumped her shoulder. “Does this mean you like me?”

She grinned and bumped back. “Maybe.”

They took a long route back to her flat. There was a comment or two here and there but they were mostly in a comfortable silence. As they approached her door, she turned to him. “We’re doing this again, right?”

“I certainly hope so. How about Thursday, all day, next week?”

“Yeah. I can do that.”

“I’ll pick you up at nine. Wear something casual and comfortable shoes you can walk in.”

“In the morning?” He nodded. “Sure. That’s sorted then.” They reached her flat. He waited for her to unlock the door.

She was nervous and she knew why. They both were there because they wanted to be. No other reason. She knew he was going to kiss _her_ , not Belle. And when he did just that, it was different. Better. It started slow and almost chaste but soon deepened into something more. They finally stopped to catch their breaths. She was more than ready to continue the evening and leaned in again when he pulled back.

“Good night, Hannah.” He turned and was halfway down the hall before she started sputtering.

“But…what about?” She pointed inside.

He turned and smiled but kept walking. “I’m wooing you, remember? You’re not going to know what hit you.”

It was too late for that.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An all-day date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[**kalleah**](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/) made this whole thing better. While all the places and tours are real, I have no idea if you can really do all this in the time frame I gave (hope so).

Peter arrived on time and with coffee and pastries. They carried them through to the dining table. Hannah took him in. “You own jeans,” she smiled at him.

“Of course I own jeans. I see you do as well.” Besides the denim, he wore a striped Oxford, untucked of course, with sunglasses hanging from a pocket and well-worn brown boots.

She had been undecided for the longest time but went with jeans and soft grey t-shirt. He wanted casual, she’d give him casual. Footwear was another matter. She usually wore boots with pointy heels or ballet flats with her jeans. They didn’t fall in line with “comfortable footwear,” especially after she saw what he was wearing. She refused to be one of those women who wore running shoes with everything. Definitely not her style. She eventually settled on an old pair of Converse she hadn’t worn since her university days. Her hair was still damp from that morning and she decided to let it go natural but tucked an elastic in her pocket, just in case. While she kept it subtle, she still wore make-up. It was a date after all.

She doctored her coffee to her liking and nibbled on a croissant. “So, where are we going?”

Peter reached into the bag he had brought with him and produced two disposable cameras. After unwrapping them, he put one into a shirt pocket and handed the other to her. “You said once you love this city. But have you ever really enjoyed it? I’m reckoning no. So, we’re going to be tourists.” He looked at his watch. “And we better get a move on or we’ll be late.”

She pouted a bit but grabbed her bag and coffee and followed him out, stuffing her camera in as she went. “Late for what?” He smiled and took her hand. “Peter, late for what?”

“You really aren’t used to not being in control. Don’t worry, it’s nothing scary.” He walked her to the Tube entrance.

She stopped short. “No.”

“What?”

“I’m not going down there. I don't do pubic transport.”

“It’s how I travel all the time. And it’s part of the experience. I promise to hold your hand the whole time.” He gave their joined ones a squeeze. She smiled at the reassurance and let him lead her onto a train. They exited at Victoria Station and Peter asked her to wait while he ran a quick errand. “Here you go! Official _Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace_ pocket guide. Now, sources tell me, if we go about two blocks that way, we’ll have an excellent vantage point. Come on.”

His enthusiasm was infectious and he’d clearly thought this out. Hannah found herself clapping along with the rest of the crown and snapping pictures. During the ceremony, a light fog rolled in. She flicked the sunglasses again Peter’s chest.

“I think these were wishful thinking.”

“I think you’re right but I’m prepared just in case.”

“Like a Scout.”

“That’s me. Be prepared.” They hung back while the crowd dispersed, taking pictures of the castle (the Queen was in residence) and posing with the guards (but not stooping to trying to make them smile). Afterwards, they wandered around St. James Park hand-in-hand.

“So, Inspector, where are you taking me for lunch?” Hannah expected him to answer with some tourist trap.

“We’re here. All these vendors are just waiting for our business.” He led her to a stand and they eventually settled on a bench with their sandwiches and other items. “If I remember correctly, you have a birthday coming up here soon.”

She was surprised he recalled such a thing. After all, he’d only seen her ID briefly. “Yeah, but don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t like birthdays?”

“No, well, a bit. It’s just; this is only our second date. I wouldn’t expect that from you.”

“What if I want to do something?”

“I can’t exactly stop you. What do you have in mind?” He just smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Tell me! Are you going to do this all the time? It’s going to drive me barmy if you do.”

“You’re cute when you’re antsy.”

She pouted, knowing he wouldn’t cave. “Fine.” He surprised her by leaning in and kissing her.

When they pulled back, he remarked, “Stick your lip out like that, you’re asking for something to be done to it.”

She was either going to kill him or pout more often. She hadn’t decided yet.

After they ate, they wandered a bit more, eventually stopping at an ice cream stand. Hannah was content to people watch while licking her 99. That was until she turned to speak to her companion and was dumbstruck.

Peter slid the flake down his lips and licked away the bit of ice cream that had stayed behind before turning to her. “What? Do I have something on me?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You should charge people to watch you do that. You’d make as much as I do, easy. Probably more.”

He gave her an incredulous look. “What are you on about?”

“You don’t have any idea, do you? You have that intangible quality that just draws people in. I bet you don’t have problems getting people to talk to you in your work. At least not in the beginning. And sure, some may not find you attractive in a conventional way but that doesn’t matter because you have an effortless charm. And, you’re a dead sexy bastard.”

He preened a bit at that. “Am I now? You gleaned all that from watching me eat a 99 with a flake?”

“Well, it gives a girl ideas. Especially when this girl knows what that tongue can do.” This time she leaned in and kissed him. When they pulled apart, he smirked.

“You think I’m dead sexy.”

She smacked his arm. “The stubble. The brooding. I’m sure I’m not the only one. Admit it. You’ve got more than your fair share of free drinks.”

“Could be.” He checked his watch and pulled a brochure from his back pocket. To her amusement, he also produced a pair of glasses from the inside of the same pocket his sunglasses where visibly hanging from. When he slipped them on, Hannah chuckled.

“I’m so happy my hyperopia amuses you," he deadpanned.

“No, it’s not that. Well, it is a bit but not in the way you think. Detective, you were concealing a deadly weapon.”

He turned to her. “I thought girls didn’t make passes at boys who wear glasses.”

“This girl will certainly make an exception for this boy. And, I’ve always sort of liked the look. Now I really do because I’ve seen it on you. How come I’ve never seen them before?”

“The extended periods of time we previously spent together, I hadn’t planned on doing much reading.”

“That Scout thing again.”

“Yeah. If it’s any consolation, I did have them with me.” He checked the pamphlet and his watch again. “We need to get going for the next leg of our journey.” They had wandered long enough to almost completely make their way around the water.

They cut across Blue Bridge and went back to the Palace. “Right, shouldn’t be long now.” Peter put away his glasses and pulled two pieces of paper from a back pocket. He looked down the road and smiled. “Here we are then.”

A double-decker bus pulled up to where they and a small group had assembled. “You’re committed to this idea, aren’t you?” Hannah was very amused and was enjoying herself more than she wanted to admit.

“Well, you’re not really a tourist of London until you’ve been on a bus tour. Up top?”

“My favourite position.” She smirked at him as she grabbed her ticket and got on board. During the tour, they make a point to pose with the landmarks in the background and for each other. The sun made its way out and Peter made a show of putting on his sunglasses. Hannah just shook her head as she rooted around in her bag to find her own. “You know if you have anything you’d like me to keep in here, just tell me. I mean, I’ve noticed your jeans are cosy enough, you can’t keep too much in those pockets.”

“Are you insinuating that you’ve been looking in said areas?” He pretended to be scandalised.

“Nope. I’m flat out telling you I did!” It was his turn to shake his head and he dropped his arm around her shoulder. She, in turn, rested her head on his. “We should visit the museums some time. Whenever I go to them, it’s for some rich ‘do or I’m not there long enough to see anything.”

“I’d like that. Series of weekend mornings, maybe the odd afternoon or so.”

“It’s a date. Or several actually.” Neither dwelled on how easily the idea of spending their free time together came so naturally. When the bus made its stop at the Tower of London, Hannah was surprised when Peter made no move to get off. “I thought we were being all touristy.”

“We’ll visit another time. They would close before we’d see everything and we have someplace else to be.”

“Where’s that then?”

“Do you really think I’m going to tell you?”

“It was worth a shot.” The bus had yet to move again and they took the opportunity to kiss. They had forgotten about the group of pre-teen school kids that had sat behind them two stops earlier. The girls swooned a bit while the boys commented that was not the sites they wanted to see.

Peter pulled away from Hannah to address them. “Sorry about that, but boys, you’d be so lucky to pull a girl like this someday. That being said, dare to dream, boys. Dare to dream.”

They finished their loop and Peter insisted they stay on until they reached their next destination. “This is us.”

“The London Eye?”

“Yep. And,” he checked his watch, “we have one more thing to do before we do that.” He led her to the ticket hub and asked her to wait. While he disappeared inside, Hannah browsed the gift shop. Before she could buy anything, he returned and took her to a dock. “River tour. Catch some of the stuff we missed.”

A while into the tour Hannah sighed. “Ah, House of Parliament. So exciting.”

“Especially when you work across the street.”

“That’s right, you do! Must be thrilling being that close to all those stuffed shirts and people with titles that sound more impressive than they are.”

“Something like that. Am I the only one who gets creeped out by Battersea?”

“No, you’re really not. Ben thinks I’m paranoid.”

“Ask Ben to take a good look at it sometime.”

They enjoyed the tour in spite of the guide who thought he was cleverer than he actually was. “Now, my impeccable timing has put us on the Eye at sunset for maximum romantic impact," Peter bragged.

“Well done.”

“I do my best. After you.” He motioned for her to board.

It was a lull in the day and they only shared their capsule with an elderly couple and a girl compulsively texting on her phone, oblivious to the world around her. The couple smiled at them as they sat on the bench and Hannah and Peter took their spot along the rails.

Peter absentmindedly rubbed Hannah’s back as they ascended. “I like that you know. When you stroke my back. I don’t know why, but please feel free to do it anytime.” She leaned in and whispered to him. “Especially when you’re feeling amorous.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” By the time they reached the top Hannah was leaning forward against the rail and Peter was behind her, his hands resting on either side of her. “Beautiful.”

Hannah turned to around to find him looking out. “And here I expected you to be doing that cliché of looking at me when you said that instead of the view.”

At that he did look at her. “While I’m not above a good cliché or two, I’ve already told you you’re beautiful. You didn’t strike me as they type that needed that reassurance.”

“That’s something you’ve told Belle.”

“You’re one in the same. But if it helps: You, Hannah, are breathtakingly beautiful. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“Damn Detective, but you’re good.”

“Thank you.” A quick look around found the girl now chatting on her mobile and the couple had fallen asleep. “I think we’re as alone as we're going to get, so how’s this for a cliché?” He pulled her to him and dipped her while he kissed her.

When he stood her back up, she had to steady herself against him. “I quite like that one.”

They departed, after waking the couple and helping them off. She dragged him to the gift shop and bought two tiny models of the Eye. “We’re not tourists until we have souvenirs," she said. "One for the each of us. Now, we need someone to take a picture of us with the Eye in the background to achieve quality cliché tourist potential.”

“Quite right. Across the river I think.”

“Agreed.”

“If we stop at a stand, we can have dinner while we cross. So, kebabs or fish and chips?”

“Fish and chips. Bit of salt. Lots of vinegar.”

He took her hand. “And this does not deter me from wanting to kiss you.”

“Can’t keep a good snog down.”

Peter shook his head in disapproval. “That was bad.”

“Yeah, didn’t really think that one through. I’m not proud of it.” They purchased their food and crossed Westminster Bridge, making small talk along the way. “Right, I’m being nosy, feel free to tell me to shut it, but how did you afford today?”

“No, it’s fine. It wasn’t as much as you might think and I booked some things online, which gave discounts. And I’m suddenly finding myself with an influx of cash again but I seem to want to spend it on the same woman. Don’t tell her I said, but she’s worth it.”

“Is she now? Worth it enough to not steal her chips!” She smacked his hand away.

“You weren’t eating them!”

“I was talking to you. And I was savouring them. See?” She picked one up, slowly sucked the vinegar off it and took a bite, making a point to show just how much she enjoyed it. She looked at him while she chewed, smiling at him with her eyes.

“That’s really not playing fair, you know. Of course you do.” She just swallowed and grinned. They finished eating soon before they reached the end of the bridge. After throwing away their newsprint, they dug out their cameras and found a volunteer to take their pictures, posing in every cliché position they could think of.

After thanking the person, Hannah looked at her camera. “I still have a couple of snaps left.”

Peter looked at his. “I’ve got one. Smile!” Hannah gave him her cheesiest grin and raised her arms above her head.

While Peter wound his camera down, Hannah put up hers. “Give me ‘Blue Steel’!”

“Blue what?” Peter looked up, confused. That was when she clicked.

“Lovely!” Peter glared and she pouted. He gave a resigned sigh, leant in to kiss her and then gave her his camera to put in her bag.

“Ready to go?” She nodded and took his hand. She stopped him from going to down to the Tube. “What?”

“Let’s take a black cab. My treat.”

“If you insist.”

She’d already hailed a taxi and was climbing in. “I do.”

They held hands and Hannah put her head on Peter’s shoulder for the trip back to her place. She invited him in for a night cap and he accepted. Peter was amused when he was presented with a colourful drink complete with an umbrella. They talked, rehashing the day’s events, what they enjoyed, what they missed, what they wanted to do again.

Peter looked at the clock. “I should get going. I only took today off. Give me the cameras and I’ll get them developed.”

Hannah dug them out and held hers back. “I still have one picture left. Come here.” They curled together as Hannah held the camera at arm’s length. They bumped their heads together, smiled and then blinked away the spots the flash left. She wound the frame and handed it over.

Before Peter could stand, Hannah fell back so that she lay flat and brought him down with her. She pulled him into a kiss and he offered no resistance. They wandered from each other’s lips to their ears and necks. Peter’s hand grazed her breasts over her t-shirt. Hannah’s hands found the skin of his back under his shirt. When she snaked around to open his jeans, he stopped her.

“Not yet. I want this to be right. I’ve rushed in and screwed up too many times. I’m trying to learn from my mistakes. This is too important to me, too special, to mess this up by jumping straight to the physical stuff.”

Hannah was stunned. Disappointed and touched, but stunned. “So, when?”

“We’ll know. Stick with me?”

“Yeah, I think I will.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah has a birthday, there's been enough wooing, the Baxters and Ben find out Hannah's not single, and Ben meets Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[**kalleah**](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/) made this whole thing better. And Hannah's undies are [here](http://pics.livejournal.com/misssara11/gallery/00012z1p), in case you were wondering what she wear in her off-hours. Well, sometimes.

Peter and Hannah continued dating for the next few weeks.

They’d meet for a drink or dinner after he would get off of work and when she had time between her own jobs. They would catch the odd film if there was time. On the weekends, they held to their promise to tour the museums. They had a pause in the British Museum when they reached the room with Roman statues and one of them bore a very close resemblance to Hannah at first glance. They were almost kicked out of the Tate Modern as they provided their own commentary for a rather avant-garde showing and the artist happened to hear them. They made plans to go on the ghost tour that would be starting up in the next month. They spent a good part of a Saturday with the tourists at the Tower of London and did everything from staring at Traitor’s Gate to touring the Jewel Room. They kept a disposable camera at the ready each time.

When Hannah’s birthday rolled around, she took the day off. She had lunch with her family and spent her afternoon mucking about with Ben. Peter showed up after work with a couple of DVDs, takeaway and cupcakes, one of which had a candle stuck in it.

“I’m not sure of the gift etiquette when it comes to someone you’ve been dating for a short time. Do you get a gift or not? If so, what?”

Hannah considered it for a bit. “I don’t know. Would it be weird? I’ll be honest, this isn’t a position I’ve ever been in before.”

He fumbled in his pocket. “Well, just in case.” She unwrapped a miniature Big Ben. “For the collection."

“It’s perfect.” She set in on the shelf with all the other knick knacks she had acquired in their outings. She picked up the movies.

“I brought a variety, for whatever mood struck.”

Hannah grinned. “You like _Serpico_?”

“I’m a cop,” he offered in explanation. “You?”

“One of my favourites. _Oliver Twist_?”

Peter didn’t even bat an eye. “I’ll have you know, I’m secure enough in my heterosexuality to proudly be a fan of musicals. Wasn’t sure if you were or not, so I brought something safe.”

“I don’t really have strong feelings one way or the other. Have you ever seen a West End show?”

“No. Want to though. But not _Les Miz_. I realise it’s an unpopular opinion, but I hate that show.”

“Me too! Peter, I think we’ll get along just fine. Ooo, and _Shaun of the Dead_. I love Simon Pegg.” She grinned at him.

“Excellent. If you weren’t, I was going to pass it off as the scary date movie.”

“But it’s not scary. It’s funny with zombies.”

“True, but to the untrained eye…”

“Yep. Now, I smell Chinese.”

The rest of the night was spent eating and then curled together in front of the telly. They eventually ended up on their sides; Hannah’s body curved against Peter’s, his arm wound around her waist as his hand drifted beneath her top and settled on her stomach. They found themselves like that the next morning. While it hadn’t been Hannah’s first thought when spending the night with Peter came to mind, she had no complaints.

The nights spent in watching movies or marathons of television series became a regular thing after that, each exposing the other to their tastes. It was almost as common to have them fall asleep together that way as well. The mornings after always erased any doubts she had about him losing interest in her sexually. She quite enjoyed torturing him by pressing her hips back into his. When he would groan, she would give him a look telling him to do something about it. He’d just kiss her before begging off home to get ready for work.

Hannah didn’t realise until then that it was possible to be sexually frustrated in her line of work. Yes, she was getting laid on a more than regular basis, but it wasn’t with who she wanted. Her clients were reaping the benefits as she was enthusiastic when her thoughts would stray and they usually did. Not to mention the time she spent alone. She seriously considered buying stock in a battery company, knowing she’d single-handedly made the numbers rise. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she didn’t know what he was like in bed. But she did and she missed it.

And yet, she loved being with someone she knew wanted to be with _her_. Yes, he liked her body but it was more than that. He seemed to like Hannah the person. She had the feeling he’d be just as happy to walk along the river hand-in-hand as he would being buried inside her while in bed. She wasn’t used to being with someone like that. She honestly didn’t think she deserved it. But he seem to have his own set of baggage, so it seemed so it worked.

They didn’t always agree but were learning to live with the differences. He was learning to accept her love of movies with subtitles and she was dealing with his constant need to be eating. There were bigger problems as well but they were taking it one step at a time.

The coffee shop became a regular spot as well. It was an easy place to meet during the day. Peter was sure to get their orders when Shareece was working. They liked it there as they both agreed they enjoyed the fact it wasn’t some corporate chain, though those has their advantages.

One night in Hannah was holding the hand attached to the arm Peter had draped over her shoulder. “Why do we always do this here?”

“What’s that?” Peter looked at her over the top of his glasses, which seemed to be drifting further down his nose.

“Why are we always at mine and never yours? You ashamed of me or something?” She gave his side a playful poke.

“Not at all. Never thought about it actually. Your place is nicer than mine. But I’ll let you judge that for yourself. Hannah, would you do me the honour of joining me at my flat for dinner? I’ll cook and all.”

“I’d love to. You cook?”

“Yes, I cook. Mostly pub fare and breakfast but I’m good at what I know.”

Hannah arrived at his building a little early. While it wasn’t as posh (not that she ever considered herself that) as hers, it wasn’t a bad place. She shifted the box under her arm and went to find his door. She had promised to bring dessert. It was a collection of the fruit tarts from a place Ben had introduced her to a while back.

After she knocked, she was greeted by Peter with a smile and a kiss to the cheek. He took the box and led her inside. “So, tour. Kitchen/dining area here, which leads off to the sitting room.”

It wasn’t flash. The whole place looked lived-in and comfortable. A lot like its resident. The kitchen was small but manoeuvrable and separated from the dining area by a counter. The table and chairs were wooden and slightly dinged around the edges. The sitting room consisted of a sofa with cushions one could get lost in, a mismatched chair and ottoman, coffee table scattered with remote controls and papers (none of it appearing to be rubbish) a side board with the expected electronics: small stereo, VCR, DVD player, digital box, and a rather nice flat screen television. By the window to the left was a small desk with even more papers and a laptop. After taking in the room, Hannah said, “Excellent telly.”

“A man has standards for such things.” He took her back down the hall she’d entered. “Loo to the left. Bedroom to the right. Welcome to my humble abode. Hungry?”

“Yes.”

He took her hand and led her back to the table. “Too bad. You showed up early, so it’s not ready yet. What’s for dessert?”

“Me,” she almost answered but instead leaned on the counter while he set about opening the box. “Fruit tarts. Brought a variety and they come highly recommended.” She watched him move around room. He had on his glasses, his shirt was more out of waistband than in, the stubble on his face was very prevalent, there was a dish towel thrown over his shoulder and he was one of the most attractive things she’d ever seen.

He looked up and smiled at her. “Hope you like Shepherd’s pie.”

“I do. So, did you really go all out or did you just stack some pots in the sink to impress me?”

He looked very offended. “Come here to me.” She did. He pointed to the rubbish bin. “Potato peelings, carrot peelings, Styrofoam tray from the lamb, tomato puree can. I forwent the mushrooms. Can’t stand those."

“Very well. Carrot peelings?”

“You don’t peel your carrots before chopping them?”

“On the off chance I do buy them, I get the bag of cut ones. When I was growing up my mum and sister did all the cooking. Dad and I did the cleaning.”

“Well, be aware, food takes time to get right if you make it yourself. Glass of wine? It’s red that goes with lamb, right?”

“I’d love some and I honestly don’t care as long as it’s alcohol. But yes, red goes with lamb.”

Peter checked the timer on the cooker. “Just about ready. Would you take the bottle and glasses and I’ll get the plates?”

The table was set and the food served. Peter dug in with his usual vigour. Hannah prepared herself to politely shove the food around her plate and feign not being hungry contrary to her previous statement. She took a small bite. “It’s good! It’s really good.”

“You seem surprised. I told you I could cook.” He looked appropriately offended.

“Yeah, but you could have just been saying that. Impressing the girl and all that.”

“Oh Hannah, I haven’t lied to you yet, and I’ll try hard not to, but I’m not going to make a promise I can’t keep. Besides, I already know I impress you.” He blocked the napkin that came sailing his way with this arm. “Now, if you don’t eat your meat, you can’t have any pudding. How can you have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat?”

“You know bringing up a song whose video has children being ground up like sausages isn’t the most appetising thing. And I brought the pudding. I can take it away.”

His eyes grew wide. “You wouldn’t! Please forgive me!”

“I’ll think about it. And you could use a bit of fattening up. Though, I’ve seen you eat and I hate your metabolism.”

“I can live with that.”

The rest of dinner consisted of their usual small talk, good natured ribbing and flirting. They had also made a sizable dent in the box of tarts before retiring to the sofa. Hannah had kicked off her shoes and had her legs across Peter’s lap and was curled into his side. One of Peter’s arms was wrapped around her back while the hand of the other drew meaningless patterns on the thigh of her jeans.

The television played an old repeat of _The West Wing_ (her insistence as he had never really watched). But it mostly provided background noise as they were more interested in each other. They took turns nuzzling each other’s necks and would punctuate that with long, lazy kisses. Peter was doing something wonderful to Hannah’s earlobe when she pushed him back.

“Peter, I don’t know about you but I think I’ve been sufficiently wooed. It’s time.”

He studied her for a moment, dragging a finger down her cheek and then nodded. “Yeah, I think it is.” He moved her feet to the floor, stood and helped her do the same.

A myriad of thoughts ran through her head. She hoped her underwear would be to his liking as it wasn’t her fancy gear. She wondered how quick she could get his shirt off him and how. Should she bother with the buttons or just whip it over his head. Would he do the same with her thin jumper or would he make her do it? Did he have condoms or should she grab her bag? What would his bedroom look like? He had only pointed to the door before.

Most surprisingly, she was nervous. It had been a long time since she’d done this. Yes, Belle had had sex as recent as the night before but it had been a year or so for Hannah. Belle had seduced Tim the Wedding Shop Boy, not her. And it had been even longer since she’d had sex with any kind of emotion behind it. Not since before she and Ben had split.

When Peter opened the door, she stepped in first. The room was like the rest of the place: cosy, un-fussy and him. The bed was haphazardly made with a dark blue duvet that had faded with age and washing. The sheets were a lighter, almost-white blue. It wasn’t as large as hers but still had room for two. There was a cluttered nightstand stood to the side with a single lamp. The dresser had bottles with the tops off and other toiletries strewn about. A laundry basket in the corner had a trouser leg and jumper sleeve hanging out of it. The door to the wardrobe was slightly a jar. The last bit of sun light filtered through the sheers on the otherwise bare windows. She wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Peter put his hands on her shoulders. “Hannah, there’s something that needs to be said.”

‘Here it comes,’ she thought. ‘He’s going to work his way out of this. He’ll be polite, no doubt. I knew it was too good to last.’

“In the interest of full disclosure, I only made the bed in the off-chance we’d make it this far. Usually, I don’t bother. It just gets messed up again anyway.”

She laughed as relief washed over her. “I don’t mind. In fact, that’s quite sensible. Wish I could do the same.”

He brushed the hair away from her neck. “Good, because I would quite like to mess up those sheets with you.” He kissed the exposed skin and let his hands drift down her sides.

“Then let’s get to it.” She turned and kissed him properly as he backed them to the bed. Hannah sat and pulled herself to the middle.

Peter leaned down to meet her then pulled back a bit. “Do you want some music or something?”

“No. Actually, no. I prefer it like this.”

“But what about all those times when we…?”

“I was setting a mood. Being a professional. That was Belle. This is me and being with you is enough of a mood setter.” She smiled at him while biting her lip.

“Good because I really don’t want to leave the room.” Conversation ceased and clothing disappeared. He pulled opened the nightstand drawer, retrieved a packet and sheathed himself while she climbed under the covers. It wasn’t long before he joined her and was inside her.

She let herself go, didn’t rely on any of her tricks, just let it happen. And she decided there was never a sexier sound in the world than Peter moaning “Hannah” in her ear. She rolled them over so that she was on top and manoeuvred his hands to the touch her in the right spots. He came before she did but ever the gentleman, he made sure she finished as well.

It was one of, if not _the_ most satisfying sexual experiences she’d had so far and she hoped to have the chance to top it. He lifted her off him and curled behind her.

“Hannah, you’re amazing. Thank you for waiting for this.”

“Thank you for thinking I’m worth the wait. But just so you know, now that we’ve started, this isn’t going to stop.”

He chuckled into her hair. “Whatever you say. You’re in charge.”

“Yes, I am.” She reached over and clicked of the lamp. She fell asleep after he did, just enjoying being held. They went again in the middle of the night and again in the morning.

She knew it was an awful, tacky cliché and had someone said it to her, she would have rolled her eyes and mocked them. But, yeah, she had made love that night, not just had sex. And it was wonderful. She’d had better shags but it had never made her feel like this afterward.

Then next morning, after a shower, she borrowed his toothbrush while he had a shower of his own. He still sang. “ _…Never chew a pickle, with a little slap and tickle…_ ”

She stuck her head into the curtain. “Is that a request? Though I never got the pickle bit.”

He smiled at her. “Then how about this: _Take me I'm yours because dreams are made of this. Forever there'll be a heaven in your kiss…_ ” He leaned forward, lips puckered.

After a quick peck, she laughed and said, “Hurry up. I’ll take you to breakfast.”

They ate a diner near Peter’s flat, then said a sweet goodbye before she hailed a cab and he took off for the Tube. Hannah was grinning for the rest of the day.

Over the next two weeks, they had several dates and when their schedules allowed, they ended up in bed, always his. She knew they would eventually end up back in hers but she quite liked being in his space. She didn’t have to pretend with him. She was Hannah and that was all he asked.

Hannah met Ben at hers to head off to Sunday dinner with her parents. Her family had pretty much adopted him ever since they dated. She had spent the night at Peter’s again and rushed home to change. She made a mental note that she should start bringing clothes with her. She had just put on her shoes when Ben knocked.

Once there, her mum asked for help in the kitchen and since Jackie had her hands full with the baby, the task was put to Hannah.

“You’re looking lovely, dear.”

“You think?” Hannah looked down at her jumper and jeans. Nothing fancy, suitable for the ever cooling weather.

“You look happy. Happier than you’ve been in a long time.”

Hannah smiled. “That’s because I am, Mum.” She was handed a dish.

As they started back to the other room, her mother announced, “I think you and Ben should get back together.”

“Mum!”

“You two get on. He’s handsome. We like him. You can’t be single forever.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen. He’s my best friend. That’s it.”

They reached the table where everyone else was seated. “Why not?”

Hannah dropped the bowl she was carrying onto the table and slid into her seat. “Well, because I’m seeing someone, for one.”

All activity ceased and all eyes turned to her.

“Really?!” her mum, dad and sister said together. Ben’s eyes just got large.

“Yeah. His name is Peter Carlisle.” Ben’s fork paused on the way to his mouth, recognition flitting across his face. He shrugged it off and took the bite.

“What does he do? How did you meet?” Her mother switched on her grilling mode.

“He’s a detective inspector at Scotland Yard. I met him through work.” Ben choked.

“Are you okay, dear?” Mrs. Baxter patted him on the back.

“Fine. Thanks.” He stared at Hannah with a look that clearly said they would be talking later. Hannah nodded in acknowledgement.

“And you found a single policeman. That’s a good job.” She knew when her mum was like this it was best to tell as much truth as possible.

“It is. He doesn’t make as much as I do but I don’t care about that. He’s divorced.” She rolled her eyes at the gasp. “A long time ago she left him for another man. He didn’t want to let her go. He’s had one serious relationship since then and it ended badly. That’s why he moved to London.”

“Where did he come from then?”

“Originally, a small town outside of Glasgow.”

“When you say ‘a long time ago,’ how long is that?”

“He’s older than I am if that’s what you’re asking.”

“How much older?”

“He’s 36. He’ll turn 37 in a couple of months.”

“Hannah!”

“What? Maybe I need someone more mature. He suits me in a way I didn’t think possible. We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months. We knew each other for a while before that. He treats me well and makes me happy. Isn’t that enough?”

“I suppose.”

“Good but I was going to keep seeing him anyway.” Hannah slumped back into her chair. The rest of the meal was had in silence. Afterwards she helped Jackie with her things while the baby was settled into the car seat by the father.

“Is he cute?”

“Jackie!”

“Is he?”

“Gorgeous. Skinny. Scruffy.” She smiled to herself. “Irresistible.”

“Oh Hannah, sometimes I wish I had your life.”

“Believe me when I say, you really wouldn’t like it, Jackie.” They said goodbye and when she went back in, her dad was waiting.

“Youngest.”

“Father.” He opened his arms and she gratefully went to him.

“Be happy, love. If this Peter does that for you, then so be it.”

“He really does, Dad.”

“But know this: he’ll never be good enough for you.” They shared a laugh.

“You’ll like him. It’s hard not to. You’ll like him in spite of yourself. It’s what happened to me.”

The first part of the trip back was spent in silence. Finally, Ben turned to her. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“You know what, Han. You’ve not only been seeing someone, it’s someone I thought was out of your life. When did it change?”

Hannah shifted a bit. “He never stopped coming to see me. Just the dynamics changed. He was cold and distant and I was partially to blame for that. Then that time I couldn’t get a hold of you, I called the next person I felt safest with.”

“I thought you said you called the cops.”

“I did. Well, one of them anyways. If it weren’t for him… He’s my hero. My knight in very battered armour.” She smiled wistfully as Ben put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Anyways, a few weeks later I was at that coffee shop in the city you’d told me to check out and it happened to be a regular spot for him. We started talking, telling some hard truths and he asked me out on the proviso that we end our business relationship. I said yes. After our first date, he kissed me goodnight and told me he was going to woo me and the like.”

“You mean you didn’t…?”

“No. And not for lack of wanting to either. He told me it was part of the wooing process. That he wanted to prove to me that he liked me and not just my body. We dated for a couple of months before slept together. And I didn’t tell you because, well, I liked having something to myself. Like keeping it a secret wouldn’t ruin it.”

Ben let out a low whistle. “You’ve either gone completely mental or are really gone on this guy. You got me into the sack a week after we met!”

“Well, I just wanted the one thing from you. I can’t stand you otherwise. Ow!” She squealed when he pinched her side. The cab arrived outside her building. They paid and went up. “I do really like him. Waiting proved to me that I’m a pretty special person who’s worth it.” She groaned. “Did that come out as cheesy as it sounded?”

“More so. When did you last see him?”

Hannah grinned. “This morning. I got back from his and changed right before you got here.

“You tart!”

“Yep!”

“Can I meet him?”

“I don’t see why not. I’ve met his best friend. That was an experience. When do you want to?”

“That was too easy. Either you have way too much confidence in him or you want me to scare him off.”

“I’m confident. You know that.” Actually, Hannah was scared to death. Ben had called her bluff, like he always did, and she covered it with another one. Still, at this point it was best to just rip off the bandage. “What are you doing right now? I’ll give him a call.”

“Sure. I don’t have to be at the club tonight.”

Hannah pulled out her mobile while Ben flipped through the channels. “Hey, it’s me. Are you busy?”

“Have we reached the ‘it’s me’ point already? Good to know. And no, I’m not. Why? You miss me?”

She smiled at the thought of his grin at the other end. “That’s neither here nor there. There’s someone I’d like you to meet. Can you come over to mine?”

“Sound ominous. I’ll pick up pizza along the way. Always a safe way to break the tension.”

Hannah said goodbye and went to Ben, fixing him with a hard look.

“What?”

“Behave. Be nice at least to his face. And remember, he has the right to arrest you.”

“Fine. But I promise nothing when he’s not in earshot.”

They pretended to watch telly until the buzzer went. Hannah went to let Peter up and Ben lagged behind. They kissed on the cheek once she let him in and took the boxes from him.

“Peter, this is my best friend Ben. Ben, this is Peter.”

“Pleasure.”

“Same.” Hannah watched as they shook hands. Then they didn’t let go. Then the grip in their hands tightened. The tension travelled up their arms and necks to their faces. They stared one another down.

Hannah tried desperately not to laugh. They were trying to out-man each other! These two men, who she both cared for and had seen naked and as such she knew could be blown over by stiff wind, were attempting to prove which one had more testosterone. While hilarious, it was also sweet. They wouldn’t bother if they didn’t think she was worth it.

Neither wanted to back down and she was getting bored. “Right, food’s getting cold. Oh, and you brought coleslaw. How nice.” The boys knew to end it there and followed behind, keeping pace and watching one another out the corners of their eyes. “I think we’ll eat on the balcony. Nice day for it. Here.” She shoved the boxes at Ben and fixed him with a look. After rolling his eyes, he went out the glass doors. She motioned for Peter to follow her into the kitchen.

Once there, he swept down and captured her lips with his own. When they pulled back, she sighed happily. “Mmm. Hello.”

“Hello. Hey!” He rubbed his arm where she just smacked it.

“I’ll tell you what I told him. Behave.”

He grinned at her. “What are you going to do if I don’t?”

“Peter.”

“I’ll be good.” She handed him some plates and followed him out with bottles of beer. Once everything was dished out, Peter broke the silence. “So, Ben, what do you do for a living?”

“I manage a club. I like it. It’s quiet, not too trendy. You should come in sometime.” Hannah knocked his foot to get his attention and mouthed thanks.

Peter nodded and smiled. “I’d like that. Well, that is if it’s okay with Hannah.”

“Absolutely. Plus, free drinks!” She bounced in her seat, loving that they were at least pretending to get along.

“For him maybe but you’re cut off, you lush.” Ben threw his napkin at Hannah.

“Hey! That woman ran into me. Besides, you should be thanking me.” She turned to Peter. “She whipped her top off right there and then and her breasts were very nice.”

“And she did go home with me.”

“You didn’t tell me! Well done.”

“Yeah. Thank you Hannah for getting me shagged. It was all you. Peter, did you always want to be a copper?”

“Actually, no. I was the average teenaged scrapper. The local constabulary highly suggested I go into national service or end up in jail. I told the officer that anyone could do his job and I went into the academy to prove it and make him mad. I just happened to be good at it and had no desire to learn anything else as a trade. “

Ben smiled. “So, you’re fundamentally lazy.”

“You could say that.”

“No wonder you two get on so well.”

“There’s other reasons. Like the love of a savoury spread which I understand you do not share.”

Hannah was touched. “You remembered that?”

“I remember most of what you tell me.”

“You both need your heads examined. That stuff is vile.” Ben shook his head. The rest of evening was spent in easy conversation. When the pizza and beer had been polished off, Hannah walked Ben to the door. “Yeah, except for the Marmite thing, he seems decent enough. Not as good looking as me.”

“Well, impossible standards there.” She kissed his cheek goodbye and found Peter cleaning up. “Now for you.” He looked up in alarm. “You were very good.”

He very visibly relaxed. “I was, wasn’t I?” He preened.

“And good boys get treats.” She led him to the bedroom by his belt loops on his jean. Once there, she flipped off her top. His mouth found the edges of the cups of her dusky lilac bra as his hands fumbled with her jeans.

She had managed to open his trousers and had pulled his jumper over his head when he stepped back. “Do your bra and knickers always match?” He pointed to the lace at her hips.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” She winked at him and squealed as he picked her up and dumped her onto the bed.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang goes out to a club and Hannah discovers a new drink and its after-effects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/)**kalleah** made this whole thing better.

Ben had been invited to the opening of a hot new dance club. He’d procured three more invites for Hannah, Peter and Monty. Hannah and Ben were meeting Peter and Monty there.

Peter and Monty had been waiting for all of two minutes and Monty had already scoped out five prospects. The rest of the quartet joined them, deep in conversation.

“It’s called fashion, Benjamin.” Hannah sighed.

“You’re gonna freeze your tits off, Hannah. But hey, not my problem anymore. It’s his. Hey Peter.”

“Ben.” The men already familiar with one another shook hands. He gestured to his right. “This is my partner and best friend, Monty Pippin.”

They shook as well. Hannah smiled. “Detective.”

Monty took one of her hands and raised it to his lips. “Ah, Hannah, favoured of God and veritable saint for thinking this…” he pointed to Peter, “is dateable. You have my sincerest best wishes.”

Everyone rolled their eyes as Hannah politely retrieved her hand and turned to kissed Peter’s cheek. “Hello.”

“Hi. Serious squabble?” He pointed back and forth between her and Ben.

“She’s wearing that top, if it can be called that, in this weather with no coat!” The top in questions consisted of a loop of sparkling fabric that hung from her neck and connected across the lower back by a thin cord. While it covered the important bits, it left everything else exposed. She paired it with low-riding jeans and stiletto boots. She was a knock-out.

“I’m used to it and I’ve worn less in worse weather. Besides, Peter knows why I’m wearing this.” He just smiled as he ran a finger down her spine. “And I’m counting on the fact that chivalry isn’t dead with this one.”

Peter’s smile grew. “True. I’ll make sure none of her bits get weather damaged.” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “Because I’m very fond of those bits and may want to do something with them later.”

“Get a room. Honestly, the behaviour of some people in public. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have women I need to seduce and then never call again.” Monty walked away with all the swagger he could muster.

The group eventually decided to station themselves at the bar so as to see the whole room, ease of getting drinks and the volume of the music wasn’t as loud. After the first round, Monty asked Hannah to the dance floor. Monty had a theory about making women come to him if they saw him dancing with another attractive woman. Ben and Peter watched as Hannah would playfully bat away his hands.

Ben leaned into Peter. “That doesn’t bother you?”

“What?”

“Those two. Your best friend doing that.”

“No. First of all, we both know she can handle herself. Next, for being the cad he is, Monty would never do that to me. He really is just using her for the attention; he’s not making a move. Also, I’m well aware of the men and some of the women watching her. I would be too. She’s the most stunning one in here and she knows it. And I’m a cocky enough bastard to know she’s coming home with me tonight.”

“You do see her as more than that though, right?”

“I appreciate your concern, but yes. I assume she told you we waited to jump back into bed.” Ben grinned and nodded. “I wanted to get to know her and I’m discovering every day I spend with her I like her more and more. Hannah knows almost every thing there is to know about me and she still wants to be with me. I don’t fancy messing that up.”

Ben took a drink then said, “Just don’t hurt her.”

“I can’t promise that. I’m a man with a temper. I lash out. I become something I hate. That being said, I will do anything to make it up to her. Can you honestly say neither of you did something in the heat of the moment that you regretted?”

“No, I suppose not. And I can’t fault you for being honest. However…”

“However, if I hurt her, I fully expect an arse-kicking from you.” The two men looked at each other and an understanding passed between them. “You’re a good friend Ben. Don’t let her forget that.”

“I try not to. And Hannah seems pretty fond of you, so, I supposed I should get to know you as well.”

“I’d like that.” They clinked glasses. “I should go rescue her.”

As Peter walked away Ben called, “Crook of the elbow.”

He came back. “What?”

“She has a thing for the crooks of her elbows. She loves it. Thought you should know.”

“Thanks.” As the Chemical Brothers pounded through the sound system, he found Hannah and Monty. His partner happily relinquished his date and Hannah gave him a sultry smile. He pulled her so that her back was to him. Their hips rocked in time to the beat.

Peter grasped the wrist of the hand she was using to caress his neck. He brought his lips to the bend of her arm and felt her shudder in a way he’d not felt her do outside of the bedroom.

He made a mental note to buy Ben his next two rounds.

The ensemble reconvened at their spot against the bar. Hannah was looking down at the other end when she announced, “Pretty!” The men followed her finger to a tray of drinks that were a colour not found in nature. “I’m having one. Anyone else?”

Peter shook his head. “Hannah, I may drink whatever fruity concoction you serve with produce and wooden things coming out of the top when we’re alone, but in public, I’m going to stick with standard fare.”

Hannah shrugged. “Your loss. Oi! Barman!”

Ben leaned in close to Peter. “You too, huh?”

“Yeah. But I’d never tell her I quite like them.”

Ben got excited. “Oh! Especially the one with the two things and the swirls!”

“Yes! It’s so good.”

Monty made his presence known. “You two frighten me. Benjamin, may I call you Benjamin? I’ve been led to understand you’ve come to your senses and are looking to play the field again. Since this one has lost his testicles to a monogamous relationship, I need someone to impart my wisdom to. A padawan. A Luke to my Yoda.”

“You’re a small green man with big ears?”

“Not helping, Carlisle.” He wrapped an arm around a bemused Ben’s shoulders. “Come with me.” And with that, they moved into the throng.

“That can’t be a good idea.” Hannah slid back to Peter’s side.

“Most likely not.”

“We should stop it.”

“Yep.”

“I can’t not watch.”

“Like a car wreck.”

“Well, Ben needs new experiences. Here.” She handed him a Scotch and took a sip of her newly found drink. “Mmmm. That’s tasty.” She paused. “Whoa, but it has a kick.” She downed it and ordered another before Peter was little more than through half his glass.

“You may want to slow down there, love.” Peter brushed a bit of hair behind Hannah’s ear. She wrapped her free arm around his waist.

“Spoil sport.”

“That’s me. Don’t know how you put up with it.”

“I wouldn’t change a thing.”

He pulled her closer. “I’ll remember you said that.”

“Wouldn’t be any fun if we didn’t have occasional issues with each other.” She took a sip. “Besides, that leads to fights, which lead to make-up sex.”

“Ah, there it is. You only want me for my body.”

“Yep.” She tilted her head back for a kiss and he complied.

As the evening wore on, Ben and Monty worked their way through the women while taking breaks for drinks of their own; Hannah downed a couple more of her cocktail; Peter nursed himself through a healthy amount of Scotch but seemed the least inebriated of the lot. They all took their turns on the dance floor, some better than others.

By the time they decided to call it a night, Peter and Monty discovered what Ben already knew: Hannah was a happy, flirty drunk. She kept her flirting contained to Peter at least. When they stepped out into the night, her choice of outfit showed it drawbacks and she rubbed her arms to generate heat. Peter removed his coat and dropped it on her shoulders. She beamed up at him. “Ooo, such a gentleman. Hi.”

“Hello. I do believe you’re a wee bit pissed.”

She pouted. “No, I’m not.” Then she grinned. “I’m fantastically, spectacularly pissed!”

He waggled a finger in front of her nose to scold her which she attempted to follow but just made her cross-eyed. “I told you to slow down.”

“But it was _so_ pretty and it tasted _so_ good.”

“Hmm.”

Ben joined them. “What are we going to do about her?”

Peter watched her trying very hard to keep her balance. “I’ll make sure she gets to bed.”

“Woo hoo!”

“I’ll take her to mine. It’s closer.”

“Woo hoo!”

“She needs to sleep it off.”

“Boo!” During the exchange Hannah had put on Peter’s coat properly and was dancing in a circle around him. He caught her and she sighed happily against him.

“Thanks. I’d worry she’d get out again if I dropped her at hers.” Ben smirked. “And I have a prospect that’s looking good back inside.”

Peter smiled and shook his hand. “Good luck.”

Monty grinned over at his partner as he hailed a cab and poured the nameless woman on his arm into it. “Have fun.”

Peter grinned back. “Sod off.” He looked down at the figure humming into his chest. “Right, now for you.” He hailed a cab for them and shuffled her in.

After giving the driver the address, Hannah mumbled, “I’m going to Peter’s flat. I like Peter.”

“And Peter likes Hannah. Even when she’s like this.”

When they arrived, he ushered her up the stairs and in, where Hannah immediately shucked his coat and kicked off her shoes.

She turned and crooked her finger at him. “Peee-terrr. Come heeereee.”

He cocked his head. “Hannah, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re drunk off your arse.”

In her attempt to look over her shoulder at said body part, she spun in neat little circles and then sat hard on the edge of the sofa. In complete seriousness she said, “But you like my arse. I know you do. You stare at it enough and you’ve told me you like it. And I like yours. Even if it is on the small side.”

He held his hand out to her. When she smiled and shook her head, he took action. “Come on you.” He threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“And there it is! Hello, tiny bum!” She continued to baby talk his bottom the whole trip to the bedroom.

He righted her and said, “Stay here.” She nodded solemnly. He returned with bottles of water. “We need to keep you hydrated. Oh.” In the brief time he’d been gone Hannah managed to strip down to her boy shorts. He picked up a discarded Oxford sitting on top of a large pile of laundry and shoved Hannah’s unwilling arms into the sleeves. As he buttoned the shirt up, she pouted at him in a way that, had she been more coherent, made him want to do more than just tuck her into his bed to sleep it off. He knew how she stayed in business. “Into bed.”

“That’s more like it.”

“I’m going to get a receptacle for in case whatever is in your belly decides it wants to retrace its steps. I want you to drink that water anytime you’re conscious. You need to stay hydrated.” Hannah climbed under the bed clothes and blew a raspberry at him. “Glad that’s understood.”

She was asleep when he set the bowl on the floor beside her. He brushed the hair from her face and kissed her forehead. He put on his pyjama bottoms and t-shirt, turned off the lights and got into bed next to her. “Good night, you beautiful ball of trouble.”

Hannah snorted and rolled over; in the process her hand flew out and smacked him in the face. He calmly took it in his own and rested them both on his stomach. Peter fell asleep with a smile.

* * *

  
Hannah woke in a haze. She vaguely remembered leaving the club and something about hydration. As she had serious cotton mouth, water did sound like a good idea. She also felt surrounded by Peter, or his scent anyway, but he wasn’t holding her. The only places they were touching were their legs and the gently joined hands lying on his chest. It was sweet but slightly hindered her mobility.

She extracted herself and sat up. The room spun and she almost went right back down. When things came back into focus, she noticed she was wearing one of his shirts. This was a first. It was the first time she had ever worn anything while in Peter’s bed, not that she minded.

After downing half a bottle of water, Hannah made her way to the loo. She didn’t feel nauseated, at least not yet, but she did have to pee. In the short trip, the sleeves of the shirt fell well below her fingertips, especially with the cuffs opened. She finished her business, sipped more water and got back into bed before the inevitable hangover headache totally kicked in.

Peter had barely moved. She had discerned he slept like the dead usually with an arm thrown over his head and mouth slightly agape. Hannah smiled, placed her head on his chest and wrapped one of his arms around her back which he tightened on instinct.

When she woke again it was to a sliver of sunlight peaking through the crack in the curtain, a pounding head and an empty spot next to her in bed. She put on Peter’s sunglasses which she found on his dresser and shuffled out to meet the day. Peter was puttering around the kitchen so she sat herself at the table, resting her chin on the edge. She growled at the sounds coming from the adjacent room. Soon, two arms set things into her line of vision. Then she felt a kiss on her temple and heard a softly whispered, “Morning.”

“Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngh.” She shoved herself upright. “What’s all this?”

“Alka-Seltzer, water for that, burnt toast, and a concoction that you should just drink and not ask what’s in it but will make you feel better. And if none of that works, we’ll go get you some Irn-Bru.”

She watched both of the liquids in front of her bubble. She figured the best course of action was to pinch her nose and chug the mystery mixture. “Cheers.” She winced a couple of times but finished it all. “You’re right. I don’t want to know what’s in it. Do you have anything for the toast?” He smiled and shoved a bottle towards her. “Ooo, the squeezy kind.” Peter smirked while she nursed the Alka-Seltzer. “What? You’ve never had too much to drink?”

“I didn’t say anything. And yes, I have. There was this time at the academy when I woke up in someone’s house in nothing but a bobby’s hat.”

“I didn’t do anything…interesting, did I?”

“There was the piece on the wonder that is my bum and all things considered, it is pretty fantastic. So, no.”

“Good.” Her toast paused on its way to her mouth. “A bobby’s hat?”

“Yeah.” He picked at his own breakfast.

“Is there a picture?”

“Yes.”

“Can I…?”

“No. I’m going to get ready.”

As Hannah’s head returned to its normal size, she started to ponder the possibilities if she could get her hands on a bobby’s cap. She’d make a few phone calls.

Peter returned showered, shaved and dressed. He sat next to her to put his shoes on. When he finished, she straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands settled on her hips. “Hello there. Feeling better are we?”

“Yep.” She pushed the sunglasses into her hair. “But there is one method to cure a hangover we haven’t tried yet.” She kissed him and rocked her hips into his.

He returned her enthusiasm but still pulled back and checked his watch. “Hmm. Let’s see, stay here, shag my girlfriend on my dining table, be late for work and incur the wrath of a DCI who already hates me, or be on time for work, receive disappointed glances from the DCI who hates me and have a potentially embarrassing erection because I didn’t shag my girlfriend on my dining table. As much as I want to do the former, it’s going to have to be the latter. Sorry. I’ll make it up to you and the table though.”

“Fine.” She kissed him again and climbed off him. “I’ll just suffer then.”

He stood and gathered his things. “You do that. You can stay as long as you want. Just lock the door when you leave.” With one last kiss, he was off.

Hannah carried their dishes to the sink and rinsed them off. She’d happily let him wash them. While she debated what to do next, her mobile went off. She found it just before it went to voicemail. “Hello? Peter?”

“Hey. Just wanted to let you know, in case you feel the need to snoop, pornography in printed form can be found in the bed-side table. Pornography in video form can be found in the lower left drawer below the telly. And pornography Monty gave me can be found in the hazardous waste box in the back of the wardrobe.”

Hannah laughed. “Do you want me to rate them for you? Give it a professional perspective?”

“If you like.”

“I think I’ll pass today. It’s more of group project anyway. I seem to be in need of warmer clothing. So, I’m informing you now I’m borrowing something of yours.”

“Seeing you’re already in my shirt and looking good, all things considered, help yourself. Oh, the train’s going into a tunnel and slowing down. I’m afraid I’m going to lose the connection. I won’t see you until tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah. Thank you for, well, everything. Peter?” His side, as expected, went dead. “One of the many reasons why I don’t do public transport on a regular basis.”

Hannah decided to bathe at home and set about gathering her things. She kept the shirt on and slipped on one of Peter’s jumpers. Her top was tiny enough it could fold up in the small bag she’d been carrying. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail. A quick look in the mirror and she felt like she was back in university. Her boots had landed near the sofa. As she slipped them on, she was thankful that her heels were closed-toed for once.

As she stepped out into the hall, it dawned on her.

He had called her his girlfriend.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah calls Peter on his slip last time and the December holidays are celebrated in their own unique fashion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[**kalleah**](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/) made this whole thing better (except for the socks, I'm just indulging them on that bit). And the [first book](http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tete-Tete-Tumultuous-Beauvoir-Jean-Paul/dp/0060520604/ref=sr_1_16?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1224457385&sr=8-16) is, of course, real. I think we all know the second one is as well.

Peter knocked on Hannah’s door and smiled brightly when she opened it. It quickly disappeared when he saw her serious expression. She motioned him in and they sat on the sofa by the kitchen. Before he could say anything, she spoke.

“You called me your girlfriend.”

Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t that. “I suppose I did.” He played it cool but on the inside he was berating himself. He’d rushed in again. It’s what caused Natalie to end almost before it began. “Is that a problem?”

“I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I’ve been a proper girlfriend and it’s the first time since I’ve done this job. It’s just something we hadn’t discussed.”

He took her hand. “Well, let’s see. We spend a lot of our off-time together. We are dating. We kiss. We’re having frankly amazing sex quite often. I don’t want to do any of these things with anyone else. And I just plain like you. What about you?”

Hannah took her hand back, stood and started pacing. “Yeah, but I’m a rubbish girlfriend! Ask any of my exes! I’ll call Ben right now.”

“Well, why is that?”

“I’ve cheated on all of them.”

“I know you sleep with other men as a job. While it’s not my first choice of occupation for you, I’m not going to ask you to quit on my account. That would be _very_ hypocritical on my part. So, that takes care of that, unless you’re planning to run away with one of them, I’m good. Why did you cheat?”

“Because I got bored.”

Peter grabbed Hannah by her waist and pulled her into his lap. “I’ll just have to keep things interesting. Or maybe you didn’t want it to work.”

She fingered the cuff of his jumper. “Maybe a bit. What would they want with me? I’d just break their heart.”

“Maybe you just beat them to the punch. Defense mechanism before they could do it to you. You’d hardly be the first.”

“I think you may be on to something. And that sounds like the voice of experience talking.” He nodded. “So why risk it?”

“Don’t you realise you’re worth the effort?”

“That’s the thing. I’m not.”

He pulled her chin to look at him. “Yes. To me you are.” He looked away and rubbed her arms. “Honestly, on paper neither of us is much of a catch.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. But the thing is I keep waiting for you to see through me and run away. Do you know I’ve only told one other person what happened in Blackpool? I told you that day in the coffee shop because part of me is always on guard and I wanted you to know what you were getting yourself into. And if you’d turned me down, I’d know it was because I was too messed up.

“Look, this whole thing could go pear-shaped tomorrow. Or it could be incredible. I think it’s worth while to find out. We could end up hating one another. Or we could make something fantastic together. There’s a good chance we’ll lie and hurt out of spite. There’s a better chance we’ll spend hours in bed because we can’t get enough of each other. But we have to try.”

“You certainly are honest about the whole picture, aren’t you?”

“That’s my problem. I’m a cynical bastard but a die-hard romantic. Yeah, I should have talked to you about it. But Hannah, I’ve been calling you my girl in my mind since our day playing tourist. I don’t want to pressure you into something you’re not ready for. I’ve done that before and I’m trying to learn from my mistakes. I’m growing as a person.”

The silence seemed to stretch forever. Peter rested a hand on her leg. Hannah picked at his sleeve as she said, “I could break your heart.”

“And I could break yours.” She started to close up again. “Hannah, say something.”

“I say I guess I have a boyfriend.” She turned and smiled at him.

“Good.” They sealed it with a kiss. That led to several. That led to them lying down and Peter’s jumper thrown somewhere across the room.

Hannah’s hands stopped at his belt buckle. “Do you have…?”

“I did but then we…”

“Oh yeah.” They smiled at the shared memory.

“You?”

“In my bag. Which is,” she pointed over her shoulder and turned to look, “not there. Meet you in the bedroom?”

“Yep.” He helped her up and they went their separate ways. Peter started to undress in order to expedite the process when Hannah joined him again. He had slipped out of his shoes and socks, taken off his shirt and vest, and unbuckled his belt when she entered brandishing a box.

“Just in case the stash in here was running low. Now, where were we?” Before he could answer, she shoved him on to the bed and straddled his hips. Together they removed her jumper and he ran his hands over the silk of her camisole as they resumed kissing.

Hannah reached down and opened Peter’s trousers and then moved to do the same with her jeans when Peter’s mobile went off.

“Bloody hell! Who the fu- WHAT?!”

Monty’s far too chipper voice said, “Peter, my friend, buy me your drink!”

“I can’t. I’m at Hannah’s.”

“So, drinks at Hannah’s?”

“Monty, if I ever interrupted you doing what I’m attempting to do right now, you wouldn’t talk to me for a week. I. AM. AT. HANNAH’S.”

“Oh. OH! Sorry. I’m so sorry. Give her my best. And do that thing I told you about!” Peter shut the phone.

“Wanker. I may harm him some day.” He looked up to see Hannah biting the tip of her index finger and smiling at him. “Was I saying something?”

“Nothing important.” She squealed as he flipped her over. While he was pulling down her jeans, she was opening the box and pulling out a packet.

And then the doorbell went.

Peter mumbled against Hannah’s neck. “I thought you didn’t have anyone until much later.”

“I don’t and it’s an out call. Get up. I’ll see who it is.” She got up and pulled her jumper over her head.

She was about to head out when he stopped her, “Uh, Hannah, you might want to…” he pointed to her waist.

She followed his finger. “Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” She pulled up her zip as she left the room. He pulled on his socks and was buttoning up his shirt when he heard Hannah’s overly cheery voice. “Ben! Peter, it’s Ben! And he’s brought dinner it seems.” Peter wandered into the hall and gave Ben a nod hello which was returned. “Isn’t that nice?” Hannah gave him a tight smile.

“Well, we need to eat. Take it on through.” When Ben was out of earshot, Peter leaned in, “We can hurry through and get him out the door.”

“You don’t know Ben, but it’s worth a shot.”

The three of them set the table and tucked in. Ben licked a finger clean. “So, Hannah tells me you took good care of her.”

“Returning the favour of a long time ago.”

“Yeah, she told me about that. Only I understand it wasn’t alcohol that did you in.”

“No, it’s his eating habits.” Hannah reached over and ruffled Peter’s hair from behind. “Seriously, you should see what he puts in mouth!” Both men chuckled at that. Hannah realised who she was talking to. “Oh, grow up, the pair of you. You know what I meant.”

Peter draped an arm around her shoulders. “Isn’t she cute when she’s flustered?”

“I could tell some tales. So, what are you up to this evening?”

“Apparently not shagging my boyfriend.”

Ben raised his eyebrows. “We have a boyfriend?”

Hannah curled into Peter and smiled. “Yeah.”

“Good. You need that whether you think so or not. As for you, remember what I said the other night.”

Peter nodded. “I will and I’ll do my damnedest to do right by her.”

“And I really believe that. Don’t let her mess it up.” At Hannah’s huff, Ben turned to her. “That’s right. You fought against this for so long. It has to be pretty special for you to have given in. I’ve given him ‘The Talk' and think you could make a good go of it.”

“Yes Dad.”

Things wound down from there. As they cleaned up, Ben eyed Peter’s jumper hanging from Hannah’s telly and mouthed a sincere apology to her. She rolled her eyes and nodded. After she ushered him out, she wrapped her arms around Peter’s waist.

“I’m sorry. I need to start getting ready.”

He kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay. We’ll celebrate this event when we have more time. A whole evening in fact.”

“Sounds good. Oh, but next week I promised evenings, well dinner at least, to the family. Holiday and all. ”

“Hmm?”

“Hanukah. I’ve ignored their pleas for the past couple of years but guilt trips eventually get somewhere and I’m trying to grow as a person too.”

“Ah. That’s okay as long as I get dessert a couple of those nights.”

“Absolutely.” She tilted her head up for a kiss.

* * *

  
It was once of those mornings. Hannah had hardly had a taxing night. Her client asked her to strip to her under things and pose on the bed. All the while he walked about saying things like, “Lovely. Beautiful. Put your hand there. Gorgeous.” It was fun for the first ten minutes but was really old after thirty. And that was all. No sex of any kind. The modelling was all he wanted. Every one had their quirks. When the hour was up he handed her her clothes and a tip that was far more obscene than anything she’d actually done. He kissed her cheek and said, “Thank you so much. I had a wonderful time. I’ll be in touch.” The rest of her night was uneventful and she got a full night’s sleep.

After all that though, she just couldn’t get motivated. She’d been shuffling about her flat in flannel pyjama bottoms and Peter’s shirt. Currently she was sat in front of the telly sipping on coffee. The buzzer went.

“Yes?”

“Hannah Baxter? Delivery.” She wasn’t expecting anything but people didn’t usually announce gifts. She buzzed him in and signed for the box. She tore into it as soon as she sat. It held a candle with a bow on it. She sniffed. It was scented. Light. Nice. Digging further in, she found a card.

_Happy Hanukah Hannah. And yes, I tried saying it five times fast._

_~Peter_

She called him right away.

“Why hello there, Miss Baxter. How are we doing this fine day?”

“I got a package.”

“Did you now?”

“What’s this all about?”

“It’s customary to get gifts this holy time, so I’m told. Eight of them to be exact. Research tells me a common first day gift is a menorah. You don’t strike me as the type. So, I thought: candle.”

She bit her lip to keep from grinning too hard. “I’m getting seven more then? Like what?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see. Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I do. Thank you, Peter. Can you come by tonight for a proper show of gratitude?’

“I’m afraid not. My partner and I have committed to taking out and corrupting your young Benjamin.”

“You’re not.” She almost dropped the candle.

“Well, Monty is. I’m mainly along to keep the illegal activities to a minimum. Do you know how much it would cost of a quick getaway out of the country? Never mind. I’ll look it up myself.”

“Peter.” Her voice held a clear warning.

“Hannah, I’m joking. And Ben’s a big boy. He can take care of himself. I promise to have him home before curfew.”

“I’d tell you to behave but it wouldn’t do any good.”

“You wouldn’t like us as much if we did.”

“True. Thank you again. You sure you don’t want to tell me what to expect?”

“Goodbye Hannah.”

The next day, another package. She tore into it. Inside was a CD with “Play Me” written in Peter’s scrawl on it. Excited, to hear, she popped it into her player. Amy Winehouse belted about how she was no good. Hannah smiled. Peter remembered that she liked the singer, problems and all. As the mix went on, she got more confused. The Ramones had history for them but Billy Joel? Manfred Mann? Followed by the Beastie Boys? There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the song choices. By the time Simon and Garfunkel’s ode to herbs faded into Mark Ronson’s cover tune, she was baffled. She’d had enough by the time Joss Stone gave way to Pete Burns.

Before he could even say hello, she demanded, “Explain.”

“Good morning to you too.”

“I don’t get it. I mean, it’s good music, mostly, but is there a theme I’m not catching?”

“Yes, there is. Think about it. You’re clever. I’ll give you a hint, it’s not the songs.”

“They’ve all been tabloid fodder?”

“No. Well, yes, but that’s not it. Come on, Hannah.” She could just imagine him leaning back in his chair, smirk on his face, phone cradled between his ear and shoulder so he could cross his arms, hair askew, glasses on, looking absolutely shaggable and smug. She wasn’t sure if she was randy or annoyed.

“Just tell me.”

“All the artists are Jewish.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? That’s all I get? I put effort into that! There are quality compositions there.”

Hannah shook her head to clear it. No one had ever put so much thought in something that about _her_. “Actually, you stunned me into silence. But hold on, you slipped up.”

“How?”

“The Clash. I mean, I know you’re a fan but…”

“Mick Jones. On his mother’s side.”

“Huh. You really thought about this.” The last song came on. “Oh!”

“Now what?”

“The theme from _The Princess Bride_! That’s my favourite.”

“Book or movie?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“How about you show up here, say around half-nine/ten o’clock and I give you a proper thank you?”

“How could I turn that down?”

Day Three brought an assortment of Cadbury products. Peter said chocolate was traditional and Hannah completely agreed, though pointed out she was more of a Yorkie girl (he wasn’t surprised). Day Four, a top. “It’s dreidel-esque,” he offered. Day Five, socks. Plain black socks.

“Socks?”

“Yes. Doesn’t everyone get socks for Hanukah?”

“Suppose so.”

Peter spent the night that night due to not having to go into work until later that day for a later stakeout. He mumbled as Hannah climbed out of bed, “Where are you going?”

“Running with Ben. You could come with us.”

He sat up. “Never let it be said you don’t have a sense of humour.”

“Worth a shot.”

He smirked. “You know, it’s cold out there. It’s warm here. And I think we can make it warmer.” He patted the empty spot beside him.

She laughed as she tied the laces of her trainers. “Are you ever not ready for sex?”

“I’m Scottish,” he offered in explanation.

When Hannah returned, she ran into the delivery guy at the door. She waited until she was back in her flat to open it. Peter wrapped his arms around her from behind.

“Mmm. You’re all sweaty. Oh! It came. Go on then.”

“Doughnuts!’ He raised an eyebrow at her excitement. “Mum’s been shoving fried foods down our throats this while time and she’s getting creative. But this...this is what I need. The simplicity of fried sweet dough.” She took a bit. “Mmmm.”

“If I’d known that’s all it took...” she smacked his arm and pushed the box toward him. He had polished off two doughnuts and was halfway through the third when coffee was set before him.

“Hey! This is my present!”

“But isn’t sharing so much more fulfilling?”

Hannah snorted. “Tell that to my sister. When we were little, she firmly believed since she was older, she was in charge. I think she still does but will move on to convincing my nephew of this.” They ate for a bit. “Peter, this has meant a lot to me. It’s just so thoughtful. Thank you.”

When he finished chewing, he kissed her cheek. “You’re welcome and sounds to me that I’m quite a catch. Someone should snatch me up.”

“I thought I had. Well, there’s only one thing for it then, I’ll have to brand you. I know someone who could help with that.”

“I have no doubt you do.”

The next morning, into the afternoon, Hannah waited for Terry the Delivery Boy but he never showed. She had two out calls before and after dinner and she returned disappointed to find her doorstep empty. She bit her lip and was going to call but didn’t want Peter to think her needy. He showed up right as she was ready to hit “Send.”

“The last two get personal delivery.” He announced as his hello.

“Aw, no more Terry? I’m going to miss him.”

“Are you?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“He’s gay. But he was nice. Gave him advice on how to pick up men. But, present! Gimme.”

Peter raised the wrapped box above his head. “I don’t know if I want to now. I’m feeling under appreciated.”

She pouted. “Please?” He still looked sceptical. She batted her eyes at him.

Peter groaned. “I’m ashamed how easily I cave. Let’s go through.” Hannah clapped in pleasure and led him to the sofa. “Here we are then.” He handed the box over.

Hannah ripped into it. Her smile weakened a bit when she saw what as inside. “It’s toothbrushes. It’s your toothbrush and mine.”

“Actually they are new versions of ours. I was thinking that, maybe I could leave mine here and takes yours back to my flat.”

Hannah set down the box. “That’s kind of a big step.” Her flight response was gearing up.

Peter took her hands in his. “I know but, well, every time we end up at one another’s places, we spend the night. I don’t like having to leave you in the morning to go back to mine and change or having to wait to get to you because I have to go pack a bag. Now, I’m not suggesting we move in together. Neither of us is ready for that. I’m just saying, you have room for some socks and knickers at mine. If you want.”

She looked at their hands, then back up at him. His face was so earnest and open. Why did she have to make things so difficult? “Peter, I don’t…”

“I have along history of running headlong into things. Jumping before I think. But this time, I’ve thought this through and it makes sense. Hannah, I want this to work more than anything. If that means this was a bad idea, so be it. If nothing else, you can force me to brush after eating one of my many culinary adventures you never want to share with me.”

Hannah traced her thumbs over his. “Let’s start with the toothbrushes and see what happens.”

He beamed at her. “That’s all I ask.” He leaned in to kiss her.

The next morning, after a brief ceremony for the placement of his teeth cleaning device, Peter cobbled together breakfast from the little Hannah had in her in her kitchen. She watched him over her coffee cup, waiting. She couldn’t handle it anymore, “Well, where is it?”

Peter swallowed his bite of toast. “Where’s what?”

“The last present.”

“Oh, you want that do you?” He grinned at her whimper. “In my coat pocket.”

She was off like a shot and found the package. The gift wrap didn’t stand a chance. “Oooo!”

“I thought you’d like it.” He rubbed her arms as she flipped through the pages of _Tête-à-tête: The Lives and Loves of Simone De Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre_. “I figured you could always know more about her.”

She turned and kissed his cheek. “It’s perfect. They all were. Thank you.”

“So, would you be interested in a perfect Christmas gift?”

“Peter, I’m always interested in presents. But about that, do you have plans for that day? My family doesn’t really do anything. Well, nothing really. So, do you want to…?”

“I can’t.”

“I understand. It’s fine. It’s silly.”

“No, it’s not that. I’m working. Giving the guys who have kids the day off. However, my Boxing Day is completely free.”

“I’ll pencil you in then.” She thought for a moment. “Just, please don’t ask me to dress up like a naughty elf or something. I’ll be doing that enough.”

“Didn’t even realise it was an option.”

When the 26th came, Peter arrived with breakfast and another gift. Hannah was providing lunch and dinner. Well, lunch was waiting to be warmed and dinner would be delivered.

“I’m surprised you aren’t out at the shops.”

“I hate battling the crowds. As I tend to have days free, I go then.”

“Fair enough.”

They agreed to wait until after lunch for the traditions and settled in to watch the movies playing on the telly until then. When that time came, they ate. Hannah had bought a pre-packaged deal from an upscale grocer and was very proud when she didn’t muck up the heating process. They then did the cracker thing and while wearing their paper crowns, exchanged gifts.

Peter opened his and grinned. “Tickets to _Phantom_.”

“Well, you said you’d never been to a West End show. If you’re going to start, go with a classic.”

“Good call.” He tapped the tickets against his lips. “Now, who to take me with me… Ow!” Hannah grinned as she threatened to smack him again. “Oh, fine, I guess I’ll with my extremely beautiful girlfriend who gave me the tickets to begin with, who I suppose wants her present now.” He handed it to her. “Now, I know you most likely have one already, but this is…”

“A first edition! Where did you find a first edition of _The Princess Bride_?!”

“There’s a used book store in my neighbourhood. The owner owed me a favour and helped track it down. Like it?”

“I love it!” She leaned into kiss him, which lasted longer than intended, though neither complained. They watched the movie later, during which Hannah pronounced, “Peter, there are two types of people in this world: those who love this movie and those who haven’t seen it.”

“What about the rare third type who don’t like it?”

“Oh, they don’t exist. Like fairies and leprechauns. It’s scientific fact.” She nodded with finality on the subject.

By the end of the night they were stuffed full of turkey and sweets and what started as an excuse to curl together for warmth turned into post-orgasmic bliss. Hannah scooted her bottom against Peter’s hips as he rubbed her arm. She was almost asleep when he spoke. “So, what are you doing New Year’s Eve?”

“I have a regular. He’s taking me to some posh ‘do at a hotel.”

“Oh. I was hoping that we…never mind.”

She turned to face him. “We still could. Not the whole night but you’re who I want to kiss at midnight.”

“How would that work then?”

“He’s a lush and will be unconscious by eleven. I’ll get you on the guest list and there you have it.”

“I really don’t fancy seeing another man paw you.”

“You won’t. He’s a nice guy. Sleepy drunk. The most he’ll do in public is put his arm around my waist and kiss my cheek.”

“But won’t he be expecting you to do your job at some point?”

“Every party he’s taken me to, he’s passed out for most of the night. We have a quickie in the morning; he apologises and gives me a big tip for the inconvenience.”

“That’s quite a racket you you’ve got going there. I should know.”

“What do you say?”

“Let’s try it.”

She didn’t get away at 11:00. It was 11:15. She found him in the crowd and took him outside. It was cool but not as cold as it could have been due to the body heat filtering out.

“So, how’s the punter?”

“Safely tucked away over there.” Hannah pointed to the middle-aged chap, clearly unconscious but with a smile on his face that Peter had been studying all night. His party hat was at an angle and he was still holding his tumbler. None of the guests gave him a second glance.

“And you’re sure he won’t be looking for you.”

“Yep and if he does, who’s going to think it odd for people to be disappearing tonight? I’ll check back in a while. Until then, dance with me.”

They swayed to the music as more and more people joined them outdoors as it got closer to midnight. They found themselves with champagne flutes as the countdown began. When the clock struck, a cheer went up with the fireworks in the sky.

“Happy New Year, Hannah.”

“Happy New Year, Peter.” Another cheer went up as they kissed. When they pulled back to the drunken singing of _Auld Lang Syne_ she whispered to him. “I want you.”

“What?”

“I want you to be the first person I’m with this year.”

“Not that I don’t want to, but how’s that going to work?”

“I have a room key to a currently unused room. I’m not sure if you know this or not, but hotel rooms commonly come with beds. Beds are handy when it comes to sex.”

“But what if he comes looking for you?”

“Do you want to shag me or not? I have the only key, if he knocks, we’ll worry about it.”

“All right. You know it would be much easier to turn you down if you weren’t wearing that dress.”

“Why do you think I wore it?” She winked at him. After they made sure her charge was still out, they entered the lift and she casually mentioned, “And I’m not wearing anything underneath.” She giggled at his groan. She turned and fingered his lapels. “You wore your suit.”

He followed her down a hallway. “Well, you said it was posh and I don’t exactly have much need for a tuxedo.”

“No, I prefer this.” She turned to open the door.

“Why’s that?”

“Because, then I can do this!” She grabbed his tie and yanked him into the room. She didn’t let go until their lips met. As their tongues battled for dominance, Peter unzipped her dress. Hannah let it pool to the floor and kicked off her shoes. This left her in just stockings. She stepped back and put her hands on her hips. “You’re wearing entirely too much.”

She grabbed him by the tie once again and pulled him to the bed and then pushed him down. As she straddled his lap and worked on his buttons, Peter said, “My, we’re being domineering this evening.”

“Don’t hear you complaining.”

“And you won’t.” He pulled her to him in a kiss, dragging his hands over her back.

Through the rest of the night, into morning, as Peter was under her, over her, beside her, behind her, Hannah mused there was nowhere else or no one else she’d want to be or be with.

He made her want all the things she swore she’d never want. And it didn’t bother her. She was still a long ways off from having or even wanting what her sister had. However, she was in a relationship. A real grown-up relationship and it made her happy. Before she fell asleep in his arms, it occurred to her she very possibly was falling in love.

When they woke, clothes were thrown on and quick goodbyes made. Hannah finished her Belle business, shaking her head at the tip. She almost felt bad for taking the client’s money. Almost.

She was pleasantly surprised to find Peter sitting in front of her door; clothes changed and bag in hand. She smiled and helped him up. “Not that I’m not glad but how’d you get in and why?’

“Neighbour and for you. Hogmanay tradition. First-footing. You must have a tall, dark-haired, handsome man be the first person through your door in the New Year, with the traditional gifts: shortbread, whisky, fruit cake. Otherwise it’s bad luck. I’m only doing this for your own good.”

“Well, if it’s for my own good.” She unlocked the door and followed him in.

“Thank you for a very memorably Hogmanay. One of the best on record.”

“Not the best?”

“No. When I was fifteen Elsie McConnel took me into the cloak room and let me touch her breasts.”

“I let you do a little bit more than that!”

“Ah, but my hormonal smaller self thought _that_ was the be all and end all. I’m much more sensible now.”

She grabbed one of his hands and put it to her chest. “How about now?”

He squeezed. “It’s looking up. Oh! You know what would be fun? Waking up Monty from whatever bottle or bottle blonde he found himself in.”

“You’re very cruel. Let’s do it!”

After being called a few colourful names by Peter’s partner, they had a light lunch. Hannah then called Ben and then her parents to wish them a Happy New Year. Her parents extended and she accepted an invitation to Sunday dinner.

“And Hannah, when are we going to meet this young man of yours?”

“Eventually.”

“You can’t keep him from us forever!”

After she said goodbye Hannah muttered to herself, “But I can try.” She found Peter thumbing through one of her books and absentmindedly pushing his glasses back up his nose. When he realised she was there, he looked up and smiled. “So Miss Baxter, how has the New Year been treating you?”

She took the book from this hand and climbed into his lap. “Shaping up pretty well so far.”

* * *

  



	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Hannah settle into couple-life, there's an accident and Hannah makes a declaration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[**kalleah**](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/) made this whole thing better. And if you're curious as to what Hannah wore to suprise Peter, [click here](http://pics.livejournal.com/misssara11/gallery/00015f1r).

Hannah and Peter happily settled into coupledom. As it was winter, this consisted of a lot of cuddling in front of the telly or warm nights in bed. Signs they were a constant in each others’ spaces kept growing. On the shelf that Hannah kept her personal toiletries, Peter’s much less expensive products mingled with hers. As did several items of his clothing on the ‘Hannah’ side of her walk-in wardrobe.

At his, as Peter had promised, Hannah now had her own drawer with socks and knickers as well as various tops and bottoms. Her shoes lined up with his and he gently ribbed her about making his loo posh and girly with her lotions, gels and scrubs. She got him back when she caught him sniffing her conditioner one morning. Something Hannah had not brought along was pyjamas or any sort of night clothes. Instead she always slipped into one of Peter’s shirts. The first night she said she was getting ready for bed and marched to his wardrobe, Peter just raised an eyebrow and the subject was hardly mentioned again. The only time it was, was Peter saying he liked it because it made sex very convenient as she usually went knickerless underneath. Plus, she just looked hot.

No matter which bed they ended up in, it wasn’t at all uncommon for one of them to make a move in the middle of the night. Hannah would let her hand drift below Peter’s waist or she’d just straddle him. Peter would roll himself on top of Hannah or just simply pull her back to him and lift her leg enough to slip between.

Most nights when she had out-calls Hannah would go to Peter’s after, happy to shed her Belle skin. And they were reaching the point where spending the night didn’t automatically lead to sex. This was addressed one night when Peter had finished, noticing Hannah wasn’t as a willing participant as she could have been.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Hannah, tell me please.”

They both sat up. “It’s like how a chef cooks all day for a bunch of strangers. By the time he gets home, he just doesn’t feel like cooking anymore but knows his family needs to eat.”

“Is that what this is about? You can say ‘no’ sometimes. I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I don’t want to shag your brains out. Because I do, just not all the time. I don’t want you to think because of my job that that’s all I want. But it’s not fair to you to be denied.”

“Hannah, it’s fine. Even if you weren’t an escort, you wouldn’t always be in the mood when I was. As long as it’s not a habit, I can work with it.”

“And there will be times when I’m randy and you’re not, I suppose.”

Peter gave her a look. “I’m Scottish, so most likely not.”

Hannah wrinkled her nose. “You’re right. Probably not.”

January rolled into February while the city was held firmly in winters’ dreary grasp. They were at Hannah’s when Peter asked, “Next week?”

“What about it?”

“The 14th. Do we need to make plans?”

“Oh! No. If there’s one thing this job has done it's given me a bleak outlook on the day.”

“Oh good. I didn’t want to be accused of being a bad boyfriend by not taking you out or whatever. I’m not big on the day either.”

“That being said, should you feel the need to give me tokens of your affection, they are always welcome.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Seriously though, give me stuff.” He laughed as he pulled her in for a kiss.

The tickets to _Phantom_ were also for this time. Hannah watched Peter’s reactions almost more than she watched the show. Old habits kicked in and she took full advantage of the coats they didn’t have time to check by letting her hand run up his thigh and higher to cup him. By the time the chandelier came crashing down and the house lights came up, Peter’s trousers were uncomfortably tight. With a heated look to Hannah, he grabbed her hand and marched toward the lobby. He dropped it and flashed his badge. “DI Peter Carlisle. I need to see the theatre manager.” When the man in question was found, Peter explained how the young lady with him needed to be questioned after being a victim of a crime and could they use his office. Hannah fell into the role of bewildered damsel and wrung her hands. They were quickly ushered to a side hall and let in a door. “This is private, thank you.” Peter shut the door and locked it. By the time he turned, Hannah had perched herself on the desk.

She opened her legs and he stepped between them. His hands shoved up the hem of her dress while hers worked his belt. He stopped before she pushed the trousers down. When she looked at him in question, he said, “Wallet.” After retrieving it and the condom held inside, they slipped it on together, he slid her knickers to the side and he slipped in.

This wasn’t slow romance, this was quick and hard. Hannah wrapped her legs around Peter’s waist to pull him deeper. Not long after, they were panting and the final shudders of Peter’s orgasm waned.

“So, condom in the wallet, eh?”

Peter laughed against her neck. “Well, I figured dating you required me to be prepared.”

She pushed him back to look at him, looking mock-offended. “Are you saying I’m easy?”

“No,” he brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek. “I’m saying you’re very desirable.” They smiled at each other. “And I’m downright irresistible.”

“It’s your modesty.”

He pulled out, disposed of the condom and zipped up. “Come on.”

“Huh?”

“We’ve got to get going. Second half’s going to start. What?”

“I just don’t remember the last time I’ve seen a whole show.”

They made it back to their seats right after the lights dimmed. While Peter’s attention was on the stage, Hannah’s was split between it and the man next to her. She could see he was enjoying himself and she was glad that she was a part of it.

As the show continued Peter’s hand settled on Hannah’s knee, under her coat. The action on stage progressed, as did his hand. _Don Juan Triumphant_ began and Peter’s fingers pushed aside the bit of silk at the apex of Hannah’s thighs and slipped into her. She gasped and turned to him. His face gave away nothing but his fingers curled and stroked harder. The leads sang of raging fires in the blood and flames consuming them. Hannah could vaguely comprehend and understand what they were talking about. She climaxed as scripted chaos ensued on stage. Peter kept his eyes to the stage as he pulled out his hand, straightened her skirt, retrieved a handkerchief from his jacked pocket and wiped his fingers.

As the cast made their curtain calls and the audience gave them a standing ovation, Peter leaned over and said, “I love the theatre. Thank you for this.” Then he turned to her, “All of it.”

“I’d be lying if I didn’t say the pleasure was partially mine.” They shared a smile before rejoining the applause. While they waited in the taxi queue, Hannah wrapped her arms around one of Peter’s. “So, you really had a good time and not just because of the mind-blowing sex?”

Peter chuckled. “While that’s certainly one of the highlights of the evening, yes, the whole night was wonderful. I mean you see the bits they put on telly, but oh, in person it’s just so much more.”

“So, you don’t want to see another show then?”

“Absolutely not. Especially the bit about visiting the manager’s office in every theatre in the West End.” They were both grinning as they entered the cab.

Later that night they spooned in Hannah’s bed. Peter lifted Hannah’s right arm and kissed her wrist. His thumb traced the star there as he set the limb back down.

“Tell me about it. The tattoo.”

“Drunken night in uni. The folly of youth.”

“Why not get it removed?”

“Someday, maybe. For now it’s a reminder of past mistakes.”

He pulled her closer. “Well, you’re the only woman I’ve been involved with that has one.”

“Surely there’s been others.”

“One-night stands don’t count. Didn’t care enough to look. But now my girlfriend has this thing on her skin. I’ve lived with it this long. I suppose it doesn’t bother me that much. Just promise me you’ll never get my name, or anyone else’s for that matter.”

She turned to him. “Why not? I’d care enough to have you on me forever.”

“Did you ever notice that people who do that tend to have that relationship end in a rather spectacular fashion?”

Hannah pondered it for a moment. “You know, you’re right. I’ll never get your name tattooed on my person. Actually, I don’t plan on getting anything more, for any reason. Bully for those who do get them. There’s a reason why I got pissed before the first one.” That discussion coming to a rational close led to a period of just lying together. Hannah was the first to break the silence, “I like this. Being held, that is. I don’t get paid to just be held. I don’t think I’d like it as much if I did. Then again, it could entirely be because of who’s doing the holding.”

“Mmm.” Peter’s voice was that of one who was almost asleep. “Well, I’d like to think it’s just me. Let’s not test that theory further than that. Now, go to sleep you wee inked heathen.”

“Yes, sir.” She pressed her hips back into his and laughed at his groan.

“I’ll get you for…” he yawned, “that in the morning.”

“Looking forward to it.”

The next morning Hannah was stood on her balcony, coffee in hand, when she heard Peter wake and call for her.

“Out here. Might want to put something on first. Don’t want anything I hold near and dear to get frostbitten! Coffee’s on the counter.”

A few minutes later she heard him shuffled up behind her. He balanced his mug next to hers and rubbed her back with his other hand. After a kiss to her neck where it was exposed from the messy knot she’d pulled her hair into, he whispered, “What are we doing?”

“It’s snowing. It never sticks in the city or if it does, it quickly becomes a slushy mess. But it’s pretty when it comes down. Don’t you think?”

“Mmm. Nice jumper.”

It was his. Initially, she’d throw just it on to make the coffee. When she’d looked outside, she put on some pyjama bottoms and her slippers.

She turned to him. “Thanks. Nice…bed head.” When they first met, she wasn’t sure he could be more rumpled. Mornings proved it could happen. And she adored him like that. He had put on a t-shirt and jim jam bottoms that he’d been keeping there. His slippers were the only thing not well-worn. She’d bought them for him to keep there.

“Should be quality. Worked on it for hours. It is lovely, isn’t it?” He nodded out to the sky. “One of the things I miss about Scotland but not the cold that comes with it.”

When the London cold got to them, they went back inside. Peter had made it a personal mission to teach Hannah to cook at least the basics. She had mastered toast and they had moved on to bacon (turkey, of course) and scrambled eggs. She was revising carefully as she knew her exams involved a full fry-up without his help. She was pretty sure accidental food poisoning of an officer of the law wasn’t illegal, but one could never be too sure of such things.

“Now, make sure to move the eggs about. Don’t let them stick to the pan. It’s a bitch to clean otherwise.” Peter stood behind her, hands on her hips, watching over her shoulder.

Hannah scraped the spatula through the yellow lumps in the pan. “Got it. And flip the bacon.”

“Well done. We may have you move onto crêpes or even other meals.”

“Let’s not get too hasty there.”

After they ate, Hannah cleaned up while Peter got ready for work. When he emerged, she walked him to the door. They confirmed their plans for dinner the next night and promised to call. A kiss saw Peter to the hall. Hannah found she quite liked this whole relationship thing.

She filled the rest of her day with a jog and a long nap. She had two out-calls: an appointment with someone shaping up to be a regular and an overnight GFE. In between the two and after the overnighter fell asleep, she called Peter.

“Did you ever do this to me? Call while I was out that is.”

“Yeah. I’d call Ben sometimes but you usually never slept enough for me to. I didn’t need to find other means of entertaining myself except the books, which you still interrupted.”

“I never heard you complain or where you just being professional?”

“I was but I also wasn’t complaining. You made me break a lot of my rules. And now you see me for me. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m still reading in bed. I’m not stopping that, I’ll have you know.” Hannah knew he didn’t mind because he never said a word about the rapidly growing pile of books she was keeping at his.

“I wouldn’t want you to. Right then, some of us to work conventional hours, so off to bed for me. Alone. Poor me.”

“Shut up. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Looking forward to it.”

The rest of the night into morning went as expected. Hannah fell into bed soon after she arrived home. She had slept for an hour when her phone went off. She smiled when Peter’s number appeared in the ID window.

“Hey there, handsome. You woke me up, you know.” She was still groggy and not yet aware of her surroundings.

“Hannah, I’m sorry. But it’s Monty.”

“What?” She sat up, now fully awake.

“Something’s happened. Peter’s in A&E…” Hannah barely registered anything after that. The next thing she knew she was dressed, in a cab and barrelling through people in the hospital looking for a familiar face and then she found one.

“Monty, what’s wrong? Where is he?”

Monty pointed, “He’s in there. Now calm down.”

She tried but still gasped when she entered the room. Peter was laid out in the hospital bed, his left ankle bandaged and a cold pack on top of it. His left arm was in a sling. His eyes were closed. She approached apprehensively. When she reached him, she ran a hand through his hair and kissed his forehead.

“Peter? It’s me.”

He stirred. “Hannah?” He smiled at her and she peppered his face with kisses, letting her hand drift down his chest. She stopped when she reached something wet. When she pulled back to look at her hand, it was red as was the spot on his shirt. Her eyes went wide in horror.

“What’s this?!”

Monty was struggling with something. “Should you tell her or should I?’

“Tell me what?!” She was bordering on hysterical.

Peter mumbled something as his face reddened with a blush.

Monty grinned. “He said it’s jam.”

“It’s jam?” Hannah licked her fingers. “It is jam! Okay, what happened?”

“Mr. Brilliant wasn’t listening to his partner.”

“Because there’s seldom something worth listening to DI Pippin,” Peter huffed.

“We had to go out and do some leg-work. We decided to stop for some brekky along the way. He was carrying back a coffee tray and a box of doughnuts and pastries. I warned him about icy patches and asked to carry something. He’s a stubborn idiot and said no. And well…”

“I slipped. The coffee hit a parked car and the box went flying. A perfectly good jam filled doughnut landed on me right after I landed on the pavement.” Peter looked greatly put out. Whether it was do to his injuries or the lost breakfast couldn’t be ascertained.

Hannah tried not to laugh. She failed and then smacked Peter’s uninjured arm. “You great pillock! Frightened me to death!” She turned to Monty, “And you! Why didn’t you say?”

Monty raised him arms in defence of the fall of fury advancing on him. “You didn’t let me! As soon as I said where we were, you hung up on me! I _did_ try ringing back but you didn’t answer! Check your missed calls!”

Hannah stopped and eyed him warily. Then, ignoring his wince, hugged him. “Thank you for calling me. Could you give us a minute?”

“Sure thing.” Monty squeezed Hannah’s shoulder before heading out to the hall.

She turned back to Peter. “Don’t _ever_ do that to me again. When he said A &E, I…I didn’t know what to think. So, I thought the worst. The whole cab ride over, I imagined all these horrible things. Just how dangerous your job can be and it scared me. I finally found someone that I let my guard down for and it could have all been taken away because you were just doing you job. And I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Peter lifted his good hand to her, which she happily took. “I’m sorry I frightened you. And just so you know, I worry about you as well when you’re doing your work. I would if you were a green grocer for that matter.” He kissed her hand then tugged her down for a proper kiss. When they pulled apart, he shifted. “I’m going to have to come up with a better story on how I injured myself.”

“I always knew your eating habits would get you in trouble. You couldn’t have shared, could you?”

“I wouldn’t have had first pick then.”

“And now no one gets any of them.”

Peter hung his head and shook it sadly. “What a loss. And it all smelled so good.”

She patted his head. “Poor thing.” Hannah pulled a chair up next to the bed and resumed holding his hand. Monty stuck his head in to say he had to get to work and to keep him updated. A nurse came in to check vitals and get a new cold pack. Hannah smirked as she left. “So, you still have your thing for them?”

“Who?”

“Nurses. Your appendix.”

“Oh. Well, they don’t wear what they used to and it may be considered bad form to chat a lady up in front of my girlfriend.”

“Good point. Very considerate of you.”

A few minutes later they were joined by a distracted-looking woman. She shoved her short black hair back and looked up and smiled. “Dr. Macartney. How are you doing Peter? And who’s this?” The doctor extended her hand.

“Hannah, his girlfriend.” She shook back and took an instant liking to the doctor. Hannah sat back as the other two chatted.

With a flip of the chart, Dr. Macartney addressed them, “You don’t seem to have a concussion but I’d have someone stay with you just in case. You have a severely sprained ankle that you’ll need to stay off of for a couple of days, then we’ll keep you in an air cast and keep it elevated and iced when you can. You’ve sprained your wrist and bruised your elbow. You can lose the sling as long as it doesn’t get stiff. We’ll give you something for the pain. You’ll need to be on crutches for a couple of weeks. And I’d get that shirt soaking so the stain doesn’t set. Any questions?” They both shook their heads. “Is it safe to assume you’ll be looking after him?”

Hannah nodded. “He doesn’t have a choice.”

“Then I’ll give you his discharge papers and get you out of here. If things don’t improve, come see us again and follow up with your regular physician. “

Things were finished and Peter was wheeled out, much to his protests. Once in a cab, Hannah called Ben and asked him to meet them at Peter’s and to bring some things with him. Peter was too preoccupied with finding a comfortable position for his ankle to notice. Once they made it to his building, Hannah flirted with the maintenance man to let them use the service lift instead of trying to get Peter up the stairs. And she convinced the man to lend them a key for as long as Peter was on crutches.

After they entered, Hannah ordered Peter to change into jim jams. Ben arrived while Peter was in the bedroom. The patient hobbled out a bit later.

“What’s all this then?” he asked, motioning to the scene before him.

“This is a PlayStation.” She pointed to the newly hooked-up console by the telly. “And this is a Ben.”

“Hiya. I’d ask how kicks were but that may be considered in bad taste.” Ben continued arranging the controllers.

Hannah put on her coat and threw her bag over her shoulder. “I need to run home and get some things. I’ll be back soon with takeaway.”

Hannah saw the realisation hit and he wasn’t happy about it. “I **DO NOT** need a babysitter, Hannah!”

She was undeterred. “You do, however, need someone to keep you awake. It can’t be me for the moment. So instead, I thought I’d let my two boys bond by playing video games. Besides, Ben could use a good whipping, he’s been getting cocky. Then I’ll come back and school you both.” Peter snickered.

“I wouldn’t laugh, mate. She’s good,” Ben said solemnly.

“That I am.” Hannah led Peter to the sofa, set his bad ankle on a cushion set on the coffee table and placed an ice pack on it, handed him the controller, kissed him, said goodbye to Ben. On the way out, she grabbed Peter’s keys from his pocket so that she could let herself back in.

She returned two hours later. Her announcement of the arrival of food was met with two grunts from the sofa. Hannah laughed to herself and went to put away the rest of the items she brought with her.

She stood behind the sofa and watched the boys shoot and throw things at robots, making mental notes on what she’d do to kick their arses when she played. When they finished the level, she announced, “Okay, gentlemen, time to eat.”

They grumbled but set down the controllers. Ben helped carry everything to the coffee table and they tucked in. Hannah looked over her patient. “How are you feeling?”

“Disgruntled. Helpless. Fine.”

“No pain? You can take another pill now if you need it.”

“Probably wouldn’t be the worst idea. Get to it before it gets bad.”

Ben watched as Hannah gathered the tablet and water and then brushed back Peter’s hair as he downed them both. “How come you never took this good of care of me?”

“I like him better. And you never get sick.”

“I had that cold back in uni!”

“We weren’t together then. You had a line of girls babying you. Plus, if you got ill now, between your mum and mine, you’d be smothered.”

Ben wiped his mouth. “Fair point. Right then, I’ll help tidy up and leave you to your invalid.”

“Hey!” Peter had been enjoying their banter until then.

“Sorry Peter, Enjoy this while you can. In no time she’ll be back to the insufferable wench we know so well.”

Peter smiled. “I think I can handle her.”

Hannah stood and put her hands on her hips. “I’ll leave you both be if you keep it up.”

A chorus of “Sorry Han. Sorry Hannah,” came from the men. After all the cleaning was done and Ben out the door, Hannah curled up to Peter’s good side on the sofa.

“Good?”

“As I can be at the moment. Thank you for this. This is the second time you’ve done this for me.”

“Well, I like you healthy and have a mistrust of anyone else to get the job done.” She wrapped her arm tighter around his middle.

“Am I allowed a kip?”

“Yeah but I’m waking you in a couple of hours if you don’t do it on your own.”

“Okay.” Once she felt him nod off, Hannah freed herself and picked up a controller. She immersed herself in the game but still managed to half-way keep track of the clock. Before the time she gave him was up, she felt the body next to her shift. A quick glance told her he was awake so she went back to playing. Peter stayed silent, happy to just watch until she reached a break.

“Ben wasn’t lying. You are good.”

Hannah just grinned at him and leaned over for a kiss. They were just about to deepen it when there was a knock on the door.

It was Monty. “How’s the patient?”

“Resting comfortably. Go on through.”

Monty stayed for a while, clearly enjoying his partner’s misery. “Hey Peter, the boss wondered if you felt well enough to do some of the paperwork you’re behind on.”

Peter shook his head. “No. Couldn’t possibly.”

“Fantastic! I’ll bring it by tomorrow.”

“Wanker.”

“Have to be. I’m not lucky enough to have such a sexy woman in my bed on a constant basis. Seriously, Hannah, what does he have on you? Give the word and I’ll help you escape.” Monty’s face was completely sincere.

Hannah patted Monty’s arm. “I’m sorry, Detective. I really just like the scruffy git.”

Monty shook his head. “We all have our faults I guess.”

When they were alone again, Peter cocked his head at her. “Don’t you have to work tonight?”

Hannah waved a dismissive hand. “I rescheduled. You’re my priority.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. Now shut it and let me spoil you.”

“If you insist.”

“Now then, you need to practise with these crutches.” She helped him up and handed him the crutches. She moved furniture per his requests for maximum mobility. When they were satisfied, Hannah sat Peter down for a light supper and pain meds. She then escorted him to the bedroom and organised him on the bed.

“Aren’t you joining me? I thought I needed to be checked for concussion.” He was practically pouting.

“I’ll be back. There are a couple of things I need to do first.” She grinned to herself and went to get ready. When she re-entered the room, it was to Peter flipping through one of her books. He looked up, took off his glasses and studied her.

“Hannah, I do believe you’re wearing my coat.”

She looked down and then back up innocently. “Am I?”

“Yes, I think you are.”

“Guess I should take it off then.” She dropped the coat to the floor and watched Peter’s eyes take her in.

“Oh. _Oh_. You’ve even got the little hat. Didn’t notice that before.”

“Well, the outfit wouldn’t be complete without it.” She was wearing a nurse’s uniform of a sort. The white collared dress stopped just at the tops of her thighs and was trimmed with red, as was the white cap on top of her head. The straps of her suspenders held up sheer red stockings that were seamed in the back. Her feet were clad in her white heels. She watched Peter as his eyes followed the hand that was unzipping the dress. Underneath was a white, half-cup bra with its own red ribbon trim. Her panties were sheer white and the red ribbon formed a v at her crotch. The suspenders were the same sheer as the panties with its own red highlights.

Peter blinked and said, “Uh. Hello.” Hannah couldn’t be sure but she thought she saw a bit of his brain dribble out of his ears.

“So, do I compare to the nurse of your youth?”

“She never looked as good as you and I fancy your uniform more. But Hannah, I can’t well, be as involved as I normally am.”

“I’ll just have to be careful with you then.” She kicked off her shoes and unhooked her suspenders, first from her stockings and then from her waist. After the stockings came off, the knickers followed.

When she went to take off the dress, Peter regained his voice, “Leave it on.”

Hannah raised her eyebrows and smirked. “As you wish.” She climbed on the bed and helped him off with his t-shirt and then she crawled back down, carefully taking his pyjama bottoms with her. With the condom on, she straddled his hips.

“Be gentle. I’m injured.” Hannah just grinned as she lowered herself down. They were both conscious of his ankle as it balanced on its stack of cushions. Peter only grabbed with his good arm, leaving Hannah to do most of the work. Neither minded and they were soon enough catching their breath and sated. “This doesn’t help with the stay conscious thing.”

Hannah kissed his neck. “You can rest. Nap even. Just know I’ll be checking on you every couple of hours.” She climbed off him and removed the rest of her clothes. After covering them both with the duvet, she kissed his cheek. “Get some rest. I’ll be here all night. Let me know when you need more pain killers.”

The rest of the night into morning passed without troubles and Hannah announced Peter concussion-free per the discharge instructions.

Hannah spent the rest of the day pampering him, keeping his ankle elevated and iced, letting him sleep when he wanted, letting him beat her scores. They both knew he was playing it up and she was letting him. She was just so relieved he was only slightly hurt that she was happy to indulge him for this little bit.

For the rest of the week, she escorted him to and from work in a minicab or made sure someone else did. For once she wasn’t bothered if she got the same driver. There was nothing about the situation she minded someone else knowing about.

While she’d leave for appointments, she’d always come back. Each night she wore a different variation of the first evening’s outfit. Sometimes a thong, sometimes red suspenders and white stockings, sometimes a babydoll so sheer, it left nothing hidden.

Once Peter caught his breath from a rather enthusiastic bout of their version of physical therapy, he declared, “You are, by far and away, the best nurse ever.”

Hannah was lying on her stomach and propped her head up by one arm and played with his hair with her free hand. “Thanks.” A lock of hair fell across her forehead; she brushed it away while her eyes twinkled at him. Almost as an afterthought she smiled and said, “Oh Peter, I love you.”

Everything but her eyes, which went wide, stood still. He took her free hand. “Yeah?” She nodded. He kissed the inside of her palm. “Good because I love you. I have for a long time. Possibly since we met. And I know how big it is for you to say it. I’m glad you did because I was going to pretty soon anyway.”

Hannah laughed in relief and then lifted herself up for a proper kiss. Now that she broke the barrier, she didn’t want to stop saying it.

“I love you, Peter Carlisle.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's healing up nicely. There's movies, keys, poker, therapy, a (possibly final) trip to the coffee shop, poker, shopping, and a surprise at the end. Oh my.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[**kalleah**](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/) made this whole thing better by pointing out obvious and unintetionally hilarious typos (I'll never look at cars or socks the same again). And if you'd like to know what was worn in the dressing room, [click here](http://pics.livejournal.com/misssara11/gallery/00019a6k).

A week later and Peter was well on the mend. Hannah had gone back to sleeping at hers but she was still there to check in every day. And now that the first declarations of love had been made, the words flowed freely but not so much as to cheapen their meaning.

Since he was still in the air cast for a few more days, anytime spent together was usually spent at his flat. This night was no different. They had a stack of movies and takeaway boxes set in front of them while they relaxed on the sofa.

Hannah had surprised Peter by asking to watch her favourite musical and then popping in _Moulin Rouge_. They were contentedly snuggled together; Peter’s good arm wrapped around Hannah, his hand rubbing her arm and she curled around his middle. When the final strains of _Elephant Love Medley_ died out and Satine announced that Christian was going to be bad for business, Hannah sat up.

“Huh.”

“What?” Peter focused all his attention on her.

“You realise that that’s…”

“Us?”

“Yes.”

“Well, except I’m neither a poet or sitar player. And I’m not entirely penniless.”

“And I’m not dying, nor is some duke trying to make me his. I don’t even think I’ve had a duke. Aristocracy, yes. Members of royal families, yes. But never a duke. And no, I won’t tell you who.”

He smirked at that and then, after a moment, said, “So, have I been?”

Hannah gave him a confused look. “Been what?”

“Bad for business.”

Hannah sighed and rolled her eyes in a good natured way. “Yes, not that you need that stroke to your ego. But yeah, you have been a bit. The bigger problem is: I don’t mind. I mean I’m not hurting for work by any means but I’d rather be with you.”

“I’m glad you are and I miss you when you’re gone.” With that, they settled back into the film. A while into the next movie, Peter spoke. “Hannah, I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but there is a serious problem with the little red and white things you’ve been wearing for me.”

She sat up, worried. “What’s that?”

“You know that in my current condition I can’t chase you around the room, like you deserved to be. I have to live in hope that you’ll come to me.”

She smiled. “And I have. I’ve also hardly been playing keep away from you. But if you need reassurance…” She climbed into his lap and kissed him deeply. He then watched as she slid down between his propped up leg and the one setting on the floor. She looked up at him in the way that never failed to make him instantly hard. She looked up through her lashes as she freed his erection.

Peter let his head fall back and eyes close as Hannah’s mouth descended on him. He was beginning to feel the first signs of impending orgasm when there was a click and a voice calling, “Peter? You home?”

Hannah shot up, her mouth still in an ‘o’ shape.

“The door wasn’t locked, mate. I’m grabbing a beer.” Monty’s voice carried to them. They broke into action. Hannah grabbed the nearby blanket while Peter hurriedly put himself away. The blanket over his lap just tented over his hard-on.

“Cushion.” Peter set it down and Hannah rested her head on it, causing him to groan when she bumped him. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“Ah, there you two lovebirds are. God, you’re dull. You need to show your lady a good time, Carlisle. And I would think a woman of the world such as you, Hannah, would keep him on his toes. Ah well. What are we watching?” Monty made himself at home as Hannah and Peter exchanged looks, each planning ways to hurt their uninvited guest and make it look like an accident.

After twenty minutes of Monty giving running commentary on the movie and eating a good deal of their food, Hannah stood and said, “Look, Pippin, we do not show up and interrupt your dates. I appreciate you care enough to check on Peter’s well-being, but I would desperately like to shag that man on the sofa senseless. Would you please leave?”

Monty stood and grinned. “I was wondering how long it would take you two to brake. You just had to ask. Peter, I really like her.”

“Go!” Hannah pointed to the door.

Monty winked whiled being shoved down the hall. “I’ll call tomorrow. And I’ll want details!”

Peter watched as Hannah huffed back into the room. “The nerve! What are you grinning at?”

“I really love you.”

Hannah smiled. “Yes, well.”

“I believe you said you wanted to do something to me.” She helped him up and led him to the bedroom where she made good on her promise.

The next morning, Peter was propped up by some pillows and reading the paper when Hannah came back into the room. She, of course, was wearing a shirt of his and carrying two mugs. She handed one to him.

“It’s tea. You’re out of coffee.”

He took a sip. “Sorry. Haven’t been able to pop ‘round to the shops.”

“Make me a list. I’ll get what you need.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to do that. Besides, you’ve run out of some things simply because I’ve been here. It’s only fair.”

“All right then. If that’s the case, if there’s anything you want in, you should get it.” Peter went back to his paper but his mind was on something else. He had been waiting for the right moment and thought this was it. He leaned awkwardly over to his side table and took a box out of the drawer. “And Hannah? You can use this.”

She cocked her head in confusion but lifted the lid and took out the piece of metal found inside. “A key?”

“To here. You come and go all the time. You shouldn’t have to borrow mine or wait for me. Sometimes I work late and you’re stuck until I can get away. And you seem to like to come here after out calls.” He was rambling. He knew it but he wanted to delay the rejection he felt was coming. She laid a hand on his arm.

“You gave me a key to your flat.”

“Yeah. Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” She leaned over and kissed him. Then, to his surprise, she left the room. She came back in, scribbling something on a notepad. “Here.”

He looked down at the paper with numbers written on it and then looked back up to her.

“It’s the code to my building, I’m…I’m not giving you a key but not because I don’t want to. It’s just, with my line of work; I don’t want you walking in at an inopportune time. This will get you as far as my front door. And just so you know: no one, not even Ben, has a key to my flat. It’s just me and the building supervisor.”

Peter knew how big this was for her. He hoped that some day she’d let down all her barriers but he’d take whatever she was willing to give. “Come here.”

He pulled her into his lap and the proceeded with celebrating the next step in their relationship.

* * *

  
Peter was finally free of his air cast and could wear two shoes again. Monty insisted on a man’s night to celebrate. Peter decided it was easier to go with it in fear that his partner would show up at an inconvenient time again.

This led them to this point: Peter, Monty and Ben around Peter’s table, playing cards in their hands, piles of different coloured chips sitting in front of them, snack foods and beer bottles scattered about.

His front door clicked. “Peter? I’m leaving some things here for later. I… Oh. You three are adorable.” Hannah, in one of her work suits, stopped and grinned at them. They looked at one another, trying to figure what was ‘adorable’ about the situation. All of them had unlit cigars in their mouths. Monty hid his eyes behind a pair of sunglasses, Ben had tossed aside his green plastic visor; but other than that, this was serious business.

Monty broke the silence. “You know, Hannah, I’m the only one here who’s never seen you naked and that’s just not fair. I do not have plans to pay for the privilege because I wouldn’t do that to my very dear friend, not the least because he would hurt me. So, to make it not so scandalous: strip poker. What do you say?”

Peter watched her consider it and then take an empty chair across from him. “Deal me in.”

Peter turned to Ben. “Is this a good idea?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t played poker with her since university and then she was okay. Sometimes good. Sometimes bad. Just average at it. Who knows what’s happened since then.” They raised their eyebrows at each other and turned their attention back to the game.

Monty grinned when Hannah dropped a stocking on the table a few minutes later. That was the last time he held that expression. A half-hour later he frowned at the sight of his cards and hers laid before them.

“You can leave your pants on, Monty.” Peter smirked at looked at Hannah with adoration and pride. While Peter and Ben lost a couple of items, Monty was certain his luck would change with each hand and kept battling Hannah and losing. Hannah had lost her other stocking and her jacket. She wasn’t a card shark by any means. She was just smart and could read people. Peter had a feeling she’d won a few hands on bluffs alone. How he loved this woman. “Right, always a pleasure, boys, but I really must dash.”

They collected their things. Peter had slipped his arms into his shirt when he caught Hannah slipping on a stocking. He watched as she stretched to pull it on her leg and stood and hitched her skirt to connect the suspenders. She caught his eye, smiled and winked. He grinned, then scowled as he noticed the rest of the company was doing the same. When they noticed him noticing, they discreetly looked away.

Hannah came around the table and rested her hands on his shoulders. Peter put one of his hands on hers.

“So you’ll be back after?”

“Yeah. I’ve got two appointments, so it will be later.”

“Just let yourself in. I’m not promising I’ll wait up but I’ll try.”

Hannah pointed to all of them with her free hand. “Now, you all play nice and clean up after yourselves. I don’t want to come back here to find feathers from your pillow fights and cotton wool from your mani/pedis.”

“No worries. We’re just going to plait each other’s hair, talk about _Big Brother_ and where Brangelina’s next child will come from. Maybe some facials. Manly stuff.”

“All right then.” She leaned down and kissed him long and hard, letting her free hand drift down to caress his chest. When she pulled back she whispered, “Love you,” into his ear.

“Love you too,” he replied just as quietly. He watched her walk to the door and returned her wave was she left.

“That’s one hell of a woman you’ve got there, Peter.” Monty had redressed.

“Don’t I know it.”

“But she’s never playing cards with us again.”

“I don’t know. It was fun watching you go down in flames.” Ben popped a crisp into his mouth.

“Et tu, Benjamin? I don’t have to stay here and suffer these indignities.”

“So what kind of indignities will you suffer then?”

“Well done, Ben.”

“Thank you, Peter.” They shook hands.

Monty sat back down. “Just for that, I’ll make you suffer my apparently intolerable company.”

Peter sat back and balanced his chair on two legs. “Come on, Monty, you know you’re our mate. We wouldn’t bother otherwise.”

Once Peter got his guests out the door, he changed into his pyjamas and set up camp on the sofa to put a dent in the paperwork he’d let fall by the wayside while he was injured. Hannah returned to find him surrounded in files and crime scene photos. She joined him on the sofa and kicked off her shoes.

“Hey. Working hard I see.” She yawned. “I’m beat.”

Peter leaned over for a kiss. “Go to bed.”

“I’m going to shower first. You’re joining me, yes?”

“Eventually. Now go.” They kissed again and he went back to work. He vaguely registered the water turning on and off and the shuffling of feet crossing the hall. He kept working even though his eyes were beginning to cross and he had to fight to keep his head up.

The next thing he knew, the telly and lights were off, his glasses were set on the coffee table, he’d been moved to a reclined position, and covered with a blanket. He didn’t think on it and rolled over and went back to sleep.

He woke again, this time to a weight on his chest. He looked down to find Hannah asleep on top of him. He tightened his arms around her, which made her mumble, and drifted back to unconsciousness.

The next time he woke to the sun peeking in the windows and hitting his face. He looked down at the woman sleeping on him. He pondered how he reached this point. Of course he’d never followed a traditional path. Fall in love with Sally the sweet shop girl that lived down lane, get married, have kids and live an ordinary life. That wasn’t for him. His marriage was a mistake. Falling for a married woman was a mistake. But he didn’t regret any of it because it led him to this. To his younger escort girlfriend. The one he met because he was a client first. It wasn’t a fairy tale romance by any means, but he wouldn’t change it either.

True, her job wasn’t something he was thrilled with but he had no room to be judgemental on it. He knew he loved her and she loved him. She could have any man she wanted and she wanted him. He wasn’t going to take that granted. He brushed a bit of hair behind her ear which caused her to stir. She gave him a sleepy smile.

“I thought I told you to go to bed.”

“I did but you didn’t join me. So, I came out here to drag you there but you had crashed. I made you comfortable and covered you up and went back to bed. But it’s a funny thing; I can’t fall asleep in your bed without you there. The only remedy was to come to you.”

“It does seem to be a serious issue. Tell you what; I have a couple of hours before I need to get motivated. Why don’t we actually curl up in the bed?” They did move and curl together, quickly falling back asleep.

When his alarm went off, Peter reluctantly removed himself from Hannah and went through his morning routine. He went back to his room to grab a jumper and his watch and glanced at the figure in the bed.

Hannah had pushed the covers down to her legs. The Oxford she’d chosen had ridden up to display her hip. The couple buttons she’d done up stopped right above her navel. The shirt had moved enough to partially expose a breast. Her hair splayed over her pillow and her lips were slightly parted. Just the look of her was making his pants become constricting. With a sigh, he left the room to grab his mobile. He paused for a moment and then dialled.

“Monty, it’s Peter. Do me a favour and tell the boss I’ll be in after lunch.”

“Something wrong?”

“No.”

“Oh! Hannah came over last night. That’s just fantastic!” He heard Monty sniff.

“Are you crying?”

“I’m just so proud of you right now. Go forth, my friend, and bed your woman! Bed her well! Wait, what should I say about where you are if I’m asked?”

He walked back in the room where Hannah was waking up. “Say I’m seeing my therapist.” With that, he hung up.

Hannah raked her hair back and smiled. “You on your way out?”

“No, actually, because you, Miss Baxter, are causing trouble.”

She knitted her brow. “How? I was sleeping.”

“In my shirt. In my bed. Looking the way you do.”

“Oh, I see.” She nodded. “So, you’re just doing your civic duty.”

He crawled onto the bed and hovered above her. “Yes. It’s for the greater good that I take the morning off to shag my girlfriend.”

She reached up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Hmm. Better get to it then.”

The rest of the morning was spent naked and happy. Together they had found things they never thought they’d enjoy before then. Hannah was finding vanilla sex more enjoyable and Peter was trying new things. As such, police issue handcuffs had been making common appearances in their play. She’d always liked being put in light restraints and he seemed to get something out of it as well.

As they laid there recovering from the latest go ‘round, Peter looked at the clock and groaned. “Now I really do have to go. Thank you for a lovely morning. We’ll have to do this again some time.”

“Do you really have to go?”

“Yes. Now quit looking at me like that.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

He kissed her and got out of bed. “My little vixen. I love you and I have to go to work.”

* * *

  
A couple days later Peter was in court and asked to Hannah to meet him at the coffee shop during a break in the trial. They met outside and entered hand-in-hand. Shareece instantly brightened at the sight of Peter.

“Detective! I haven’t seen you in a long time. I hope every thing is okay. Oh.” Her face fell, as it usually did, when she saw Hannah and their joined hands. “What can I get for you?”

They attempted not to laugh as they put in their orders. They then found a table. Hannah took a sip of her drink.

“How’s it going? The trial that is.”

“Boring. A lot of hurry up and wait. Monty’s been silently chatting up one of the jurors. That’s where he is now. Listen, Hannah,” he took one of her hands, “While I was there, I heard something. Anthony Quince’s trial is coming up.”

She shuddered a bit and he squeezed her hand. “Will I have to testify?”

“I don’t know. I can see if you can just video your statement. Honestly, there’s enough stuff without your say to put him away.”

“I’m ready for whatever.” She shook her head to clear it. “Let’s move to better things. I can get us tickets to another West End show or a concert next week. A concierge owes me a favour.”

He gave her a genuine smile. “Let me know the choices.”

The weather was warming but there was still occasional chill. Hannah had removed her jacket. Underneath she had on a blouse, flowing skirt and knee high boots. When she would move and especially when she would cross or uncross her legs, a tantalising flash of skin would tease him. Peter realised he had no idea what she was saying.

He stood and announced, “Excuse me for a moment, would you?” As he passed her, he whispered in her ear, “Meet me in the broom cupboard in two minutes.”

Her eyes widened a bit but she nodded in agreement. He waited and as soon as she was in reaching distance, he pulled her in, slammed the door, threw the lock and pressed her against the wood, holding her arms above her head.

His lips attacked her mouth, cheek, neck, ears, chest, whatever he could reach. He let go of her arms to open her top and suck on her breasts. Hannah went after his shirt but didn’t get far.

“What brought this on?”

“Those damn boots. Don’t ever wear those without me around. Every man alive will try to do this to you.”

“I can handle myself. And you’re the only one I want taking me in cupboards.”

They grinned at each other. Peter fumbled in his pockets for his wallet to retrieve the condom he had there and wrestled it on. He didn’t pay attention to what Hannah did to her knickers after he saw her remove them while catching the action from the corner of his eye.

Soon her skirt was hiked up and her legs around his waist. He slid into her and set an unruly pace. They weren’t exactly being discreet between the continuous thumping against the door and their own noises. They came one after another. Hannah let herself slip her legs back to the floor and used Peter to keep herself upright.

“Like the boots then?”

“Fair assessment.” They laughed. Still breathless, they pulled themselves together. As they exited, they came face-to-face with a stunned Shareece. Her mouth was completely open and her eyes threatened to fall out of her head. The tray of mugs she was holding crashed to the ground, Peter and Hannah grabbed their things and ran out, laughing the whole way.

“I don’t think we’ll be welcome back there anytime soon!”

“You broke the poor girl’s heart, Peter!”

“I can’t help if the sexiest woman in all the world wore the flirtiest pair of boots around me. The fact that she’s my girlfriend and I have the honour of defiling her anytime I please is just a bonus.”

“Smooth talker.”

He kissed her. “I’ve really got to get back. I love you.”

“I love you too. And so do my boots!”

He groaned and kissed her cheek before heading back to the court house. He met Monty and their DCI outside the courtroom.

“Carlisle, do you have those notes?”

“Yes sir. In my pocket.” He reached into the inner trench coat pocket for his notebook while his superior turned to chat with a passerby. As he removed the pad, he watched in horrified fascination as a familiar scrap of lace made a gentle arc before landing on the ground.

Monty picked it up, smirked at him and twirled it around his finger. He raised his eyebrow and went to speak.

“For God’s sake, Pippin! How many times have you been asked to keep your private life just that?!” Their DCI glowered at them.

“Sorry, sir.” He let him pass. “You owe me.”

Peter grabbed Hannah’s underwear and shoved them into another pocket. “I’m aware.”

“Don’t have to ask what or who you were doing during the recess.” Monty clapped Peter on the shoulder as Peter tried to fight the blush rising on his face.

* * *

  
To celebrate the increasingly warming weather and the fact that Peter’s ankle was completely healed, Hannah announced they were taking the day off. And shopping. Peter was less than thrilled with this idea until Hannah said part of the excursion would be to lingerie shops where she’d model her purchases for him after and he could even pick a little something out she would wear (and then not wear) only at his. She also did some convincing with her tongue that made him absolute putty in her hands.

They walked hand-in-hand along the row of shops, Peter letting himself be dragged into whatever caught Hannah’s fancy. They were both carrying a few bags as Peter bought a couple of things for himself and did the good boyfriend duty of carrying her bags except for the pink ones. She laughed at him but happily took those on herself.

They grabbed lunch at a chippy as they knew they would most likely not be welcome back to the coffee shop anytime soon. It was mutually agreed that it was worth it.

A trip to an Agent Provocateur led to a quick, intense makeout session in the dressing room. They both decided it was too soon for another semi-public performance and stopped it there.

“Right, one more stop.” Hannah led Peter to another shop. He read the neon sign in the window.

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

“You sure? I’ll get you something special.” She was charming him and it almost worked.

“Hannah, I appreciate this is one of the places the tools of your trade are sold but some things are best left a mystery to me. So, if you must get something for us to both enjoy, surprise me. I’ll be out here when you’re done.”

“Fine.” She went up on her toes for a quick kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He smiled at her as she grinned and entered the sex shop. Peter adjusted the bags on his arm and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. He wandered aimlessly on the pavement. At one point he turned and paused at the person standing there.

“Hello, Peter.”

“Natalie.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah's not jealous. Dinner is had. Time is spent apart for various reasons. Hannah makes a surprising discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[**kalleah**](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/) made this whole thing better. To see what Hannah wore before, well, you'll see [click here](http://pics.livejournal.com/misssara11/gallery/00018cpy).

Jealous girlfriend was something Hannah would have never used to describe herself but she found it came quite easily. It wasn’t that another woman was talking with Peter or even that she was flirting. That happened often enough and it didn’t bother her. But there was something about the way this woman acted. A bit too over-familiar with him. And then Hannah discovered who she was and the feeling was even worse.

As she exited the shop, Peter didn’t turn to her until she was almost next to him. “Ah, there you are! Hannah, this is Natalie Holden. Natalie, this…this is my Hannah.” He dropped the bags and casually placed an arm on her shoulder.

Hannah bristled at the name but shook hands with a polite nod and “How do you do?” and then wrapped her free arm around Peter’s waist, staking her claim. She tuned out the conversation, putting all her efforts into being possessive instead.

Natalie dug in her handbag and pulled out a card. “Well, Peter, it was great seeing you. Here’s the number where I’m staying. Call me and we’ll have that dinner. Nice to meet you, Hannah.”

“No, the pleasure was all mine.” She used every bit of her professional charm and was proud of her restraint when Peter’s cheek was air kissed. After there was some distance between them, Hannah turned to Peter. “So, that’s Natalie.”

Peter took her hand. “Yeah. She’s in town on business. Apparently she’s quite an entrepreneur now. Just sort of ran into her.”

“She’s…attractive. If you like that sort of thing.”

“Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not.”

Peter stopped and turned to her. “Hannah, you don’t have anything to worry about. She’s my past. I got over her a long time ago. You are who I want now. No one else.”

Hannah looked at her feet as she shuffled them. “Then what’s this dinner thing about?”

“Catching up. I didn’t give her specifics because I needed to know when you were free. I’m not going without you. We’re a package deal now.”

She looked up at him with a small smile. “Yeah?”

“Of course. Now, let’s get you home where you can show off all those little things you bought. I’m interested in doing some quality control.”

She grinned as he hailed a cab, feeling better about the situation. She felt even better than that when, after getting through modelling half her new purchases, Peter pounced on her declaring his admiration for the ties that kept the new bra on and the ruffles around the knickers. She’d practically forgotten what was bothering her later on when she was lying satiated in Peter’s arms with him mumbling romantic nothings in her ear.

After multiple reassurances, vocal and otherwise, from Peter, Hannah agreed to the dinner and the time and date was set.

Hannah had a check-up at the doctor’s so Peter was to meet her outside and they would head to the restaurant together. She had just finished up and was heading to the lobby when her mobile went.

“I am so sorry,” he said in lieu of a hello.

“Peter, no. You are not doing this to me.”

“I’ll be there. I promise. It’s just the crime scene I’m coming from caused traffic to back up and I’m sat in a cab quickly going nowhere. Can I please meet you there? I would owe you.”

She huffed a bit. “You’ll be there as soon as you can?”

“Yes. The driver’s inching to a side street as we speak. Thank you, Hannah. I love you.”

“Me too.” She was not happy when she snapped her phone shut. She hailed a taxi of her own and hoped Peter wouldn’t be too long.

Natalie was already waiting when she arrived. “Peter’s stuck in traffic. Do you want to wait or get a table now?”

“Table’s good.” Natalie stood and they approached the hostess.

They slid into their appointed booth and ordered drinks. Hannah found the décor much more interesting than she normally would have. The server took their drink orders and returned with them quickly.

Natalie took a sip of her wine and then said, “So, Hannah, Peter talked about you but didn’t really say anything. He said you were a secretary of some sort?”

“Night time legal secretary, yeah.” She was surprised that Peter kept up that pretence but also didn’t expect him to say what she really did. “We met through my work and knew each other for a few months before we started dating in August. We’ve been serious since the end of November.” She wanted to make it very clear where things stood.

“What made you decide to make the change to dating, if you don’t mind my asking?”

She did but was trying to play nice. “He helped me out of a difficult situation and then, well, he asked me out and I couldn’t think of a why it would be a bad idea.”

“And it’s going well.”

“Very.” Hannah took a drink and thought to herself, ‘So don’t even think of trying anything.’

Natalie studied her for a moment. “Hannah, can I tell you something I think to need to hear?”

She gave Natalie her brightest professional smile. “By all means.”

“No one will ever love you as passionately and completely as Peter Carlisle will. It will consume you both and it can be very destructive if handled wrong. He deserves someone who feels the same way about him. He’s much more fragile than he likes to pretend he is.”

“Is that why you left him?” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice any longer.

Natalie laughed to herself. “No. I was looking for an out from my situation for a long time. I just didn’t know it. Peter was just convenient. I needed some things that were just mine and while I with him, I realised there were many things I never had, including a care-free affair with a charming man that was never meant to last. I’m sorry I hurt him but I think we both ended up where we were meant to. I think we’re both happier now than we ever were together. It’s easy to get caught up in the moment but hindsight and all that. I now I’m in a much better place than I was then and he seems to be as well.”

“I’d like to think I’m a part of that,” Hannah said softly, mostly to herself. She could feel the ice melting in her veins.

“I think you are a big part of that. I mean it. I would ask him about himself and he wouldn’t stop talking about you.” They shared a genuine smile and an understanding.

“I do hope I’m interrupting. Sorry for being late.” Peter had arrived. He slid next to Hannah and kissed her cheek.

“It’s fine. We were just getting to know each other better. Girl talk.” Hannah patted Peter’s leg. He held her hand there before she could pull it back.

The rest of the evening went well. Conversation was no longer strained. While she and Natalie would never be friends, Hannah no longer felt the need to make snide comments under her breath. Any future contact between the two would be an easy acquaintance.

After parting company, Hannah invited Peter back to hers. He accepted and once there, set about doing their nightly routines.

Peter was in his jimjams and under the covers when Hannah entered in a little mint green babydoll with lavender trim and matching panties. He looked up from the book he was reading.

“That’s…new.”

“Yep.” Hannah crawled on the edge of the bed and up between his legs, stopping just out of his reach.

“And lovely.” He took off his glasses and set them and the book off to the side.

“Thought you’d like it.” Peter sat up enough to take her hands in his and gently pulled her closer. He raised an arm and licked the crook of her elbow. Hannah mewed in appreciation. He moved them both so Hannah was propped up on the headboard and he was between her legs. He gave her a cheeky smile.

“However, it’s much too nice to get spoilt. I think at least the knickers need to go.” She lifted her hips to aid in Peter’s decided task. As he came back up, he put her ankles on his shoulders and dipped his head. She let out a cross between a gasp and a moan as she felt his tongue take a broad swipe across her.

She raked her hands through his unruly hair as he did magical things to her with his mouth. She was happy to be in the aftermath when Peter climbed off the bed. He returned moments later, naked and ready to continue what had been started. With her body still humming, he slid into her. It didn’t take long for them both to come, her for the second time. As he nuzzled her neck, Hannah thought back to what Natalie said. She lifted his head so that he was looking at her.

“I do love you so much. You know that right?”

He leaned his cheek against her hand, the ever present stubble scratching her palm and smiled. “Yeah, I know but it’s always good to hear. And I love you, Hannah.” He leaned into her ear. “Completely.” He rolled them so they were facing each other and pulled her to him. And that was how they woke the next morning.

After a bout of fumbling morning sex, Hannah made breakfast as Peter got ready for work. He declared it wouldn’t matter what she served him as long she did it in her short, silky dressing gown. He then pulled her into his lap.

“We’re playful this morning,” she said as she settled in. He just waggled his eyebrows as he sucked on a nipple through the robe. “You’re going to be late,” she meekly protested and then held his head to her.

“Mmph,” he mumbled in response.

“Sod it.” Hannah stood and brought Peter up with her. They made it as far as the three steps to the daybed.

She called a taxi for him as he pulled himself together so he wouldn’t be even later than he was by waiting for the trains.

* * *

  
The next few days the relationship consisted of phone calls and quick meals. Neither schedule allowed for any more than that. After an afternoon and evening of out-calls, Hannah missed Peter and went to his flat instead of her own.

She was disappointed but not surprised to find it empty. She called him to say she was there and got his voice mail. He rang back while she was in the shower and told her to make herself at home if she hadn’t already. She could hear the commotion in the background wherever he was and that he was called away by a female voice.

After slipping into her usual nightwear when she was at his and a pair of her own pyjama shorts, she helped herself to a selection of takeaway boxes she found in the refrigerator. After a couple of flips through the channels, she decided it read in bed, hoping to stay up until Peter came home.

She woke with a start was the book was being pulled from her hands.

“Hey beautiful.” Peter leaned down and kissed her forehead. Hannah gave him a sleepy smile and let her eyes drift shut. The next thing she was aware of was being pulled into Peter’s arms. She wriggled against him with a contented sigh as they both fell asleep.

Hannah woke up to the smell of coffee, a gentle shake of her shoulder and someone calling her name. A few bleary winks revealed Peter offering her a steaming mug. She sat up and took it from him while he pushed a plate of toast in her direction.

“You know, Detective, there are better ways of getting me up in the morning.”

He finished his sip and smiled. “I’m aware and would love to indulge us both I don’t have the time. This case is too important and at a critical point. If I can get away, and I’m not promising I can, are you available for a quick lunch?”

“I think so.” She took a bite of toast. “I miss you. Here I am, a fiercely independent woman who says she doesn’t need anyone but herself and all I want is to be with you. We’ve not even really been separated.”

“I miss you too, Hannah.” He leaned in and kissed her. “I’ll call you about later, either way.” With that he was soon out the door. She had just set the dishes in the sink when she heard the door slam open. Peter strode back in and announced, “Forgot something.” He pulled her to him and kissed her hard. She responded in kind and he let her go. “I love you.”

She grinned at him. “I love you, too. Now go.”

He smiled at her over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him. Hannah couldn’t stop smiling as she got dressed and in a fit of domesticity, made the bed.

She and Ben met for a jog, both happy the weather was taking a turn towards spring. Peter called to say he couldn’t make lunch but hoped she could meet him later at his where he would make dinner for her and give his undivided attention for the rest of the night. She happily accepted.

She had three appointments after that. The first was usual business. The second finished very early and was so mortified that he couldn’t continue. The third rescheduled on her. This left her with unexpected free time and she decided to head to Peter’s a couple hours early. She loved watching him cook. His Jamie Oliver was coming along nicely.

She opened the door to the bedroom and went to strip down for her shower. She had removed her jacket and had a hand on her blouse buttons when it hit her. She didn’t close the door to the bedroom when she left. She turned and saw the bed she knew she had made was now in chaos. She took a deep breath to calm herself. The scent was overwhelmingly familiar. The room smelled of fading sex.

Hannah stumbled across to the bathroom and wretched into the toilet. She stood up, rinsed her mouth and calmly moved to the sofa to wait.

It made sense really when she thought about it. The signs were there. She should know. They had spent very little time together as of late. He was always claiming to be busy. And it when she thought about it, it seemed to her that he made very little effort to see her and that he barely touched her when he did. His job really was the perfect cover. No one would think twice about it. She wouldn’t have had it not been for what she’d just seen.

And that was the thing.

She didn’t have a problem believing a boyfriend would cheat on her. It had happened before, though she usually was the one to stray. She just never thought Peter would be the one to.

The door opened twenty minutes later. She watched as Peter walked into the room, sorting through the stack of mail he was carrying. He set it down and shucked off his coat. He jumped when he saw her.

“Hannah! I didn’t realise you were here already. You were so quiet.” He leaned into kiss her cheek. She let him but didn’t attempt to reciprocate. “You all right, love?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? What reason could there possibly be for me to not be all right?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. Hannah, you’re beginning to worry me.” He went to touch her arm. She evaded him by standing and moving down the hall. She stopped at the door to the bedroom and crossed her arms. Peter followed, confused. “What? It’s the bedroom. Where the bed lives, hence the name of the room.”

“And…” She had to admit, he played dumb well.

“What of it?”

“Damn it, Peter! Before I left this morning, I made the bed!”

“And you messed it up when you got here in a clear fit of insanity?”

“No, you bastard.”

“What?”

She saw it hit him. ‘Clever man,’ she thought to herself ruefully.

“Oh, you couldn’t possibly think…”

“How could I not? The evidence is pretty damning. The room still smells like it.” She pushed away from the wall. “I shouldn’t be surprised. But more than anything, I’m disappointed.”

“I didn’t do anything! And even if I did…”

“What? It wouldn’t matter because I sleep with other men for money? You didn’t seem to have a problem with it when it was you.”

Peter ran a hand through his hair and pointed at her. “I have _never_ judged you on your career choice. But since you brought it up, don’t you know it kills me when you step out that door? Makes me sick to know someone else touches you the way I wish only I got to?”

“You said it turned you on. Another lie?”

“It does when I put myself in their place. Let me tell you, my fantasy life is much richer than it was before I met you. And that was long before I truly had _you_ , Hannah.” He started pacing. “I love you so much that I can’t see straight. So I try to be the bigger person. The supportive boyfriend. But you make awfully damn hard sometimes.

“Do you know I live in constant fear? I like Ben but the fact you two are still friends scares the hell out me. What if you decide he really is what you’ve always wanted and that’s why you’ve never cut ties? Or what if one of your clients sweeps you off your feet? Gives you something I can’t? It’s how we met so it’s not out of the realm of possibilities. And I know they may be older or younger that I am. Or better looking. Or more stable. Less angry. Better lovers. They sure as hell are richer. I know the lifestyle you’re accustomed to and I know I can’t give you all of that. And that eats at me constantly. The fact that _you_ take us to the posh places. That _you_ buy me expensive clothes and presents and you think nothing of it. I want to be the man that can do that for _you_ but I know I can’t.”

She could see the tears threatening to fall down his face and felt her own starting to well up. “Then why don’t you say something?”

He looked at her in earnest. “Because it seems to make you happy. And I would do _anything_ to make you happy. I thought I made that clear.”

If the proof wasn’t so clear, she would have forgiven him anything then. She couldn’t look at him when she asked, “Then why did you do it? Do you still have that strong of feelings for Natalie? I’m guessing that’s who it was. Or did you finally give into Shareece?” She was making herself angry again on purpose.

“Hannah, I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! I have no idea what’s going on here but the fact that you think I could... You don’t know me as well as I thought and I sure as hell don’t know you at all.”

Hannah hugged herself. “I wish I could believe you.”

His voice softened. “Then do.” He went to touch her but it was too much. She knew he lied convincingly enough to Natalie back in Blackpool. Maybe he hadn’t changed as much as he claimed. She grabbed her coat and bag, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I can’t,” she whispered. She paused at the door, finally looking at him. “And for the record, you do know me and you always had me.”

She’d never forget his look of despair as she left.

She flinched as she heard him kick the door as she made her way to the stairs. She really did want to believe him but she just couldn’t.

Hannah hailed a cab once she made it to the street and gave an address. When she reached her destination, she hesitated before knocking.

Ben opened his door and grinned. “Hello!”

She burst into tears and wrapped herself around him. He hugged back. “Hey now, what’s wrong?” She looked up at him and took a breath to answer and ended up sobbing harder. He ushered her to his sofa and held her until she calmed. “Now, you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

“He cheated on me.” She nestled closer.

“Who did?”

“Peter.”

“Pull the other one.” He sat back and gave her an incredulous look. “Peter Carlisle. Your boyfriend. Tall. Skinny. Pale. Always looks like he could use a shave, haircut and a tailor. The one that worships the ground you walk on. That Peter?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re sure?”

“Pretty much.” She gave him a quick run-down of what happened.

“That’s very convincing. Do you really believe it though?”

“I don’t want to be but what other explanation is there?”

“No idea, Han.” He pulled her close again. “Do you want me to kick his arse?”

She laughed. “Not yet. Just be a shoulder to lean on for now.”

“Gladly.”

She let Ben take her for a light dinner and escort her back to her flat. She convinced him to stay and watch some movies. Mostly she wanted the company.

They were into the second one when there was a knock at the door. She knew it was Peter. “Ignore it.” Ben nodded.

The pounding became louder. “Hannah! Please! Just open up and hear me out. I know what happened! I’m not giving up. You should know that!”

He kept at it. Finally, Ben said, “I’ll go.”

“Don’t…don’t hurt him.”

Ben gave her a sad smile before going down the hall. She didn’t listen in but couldn’t miss the muffled voices. Instead of trying to make out what they were saying, she turned up the volume to the movie.

Ben came back a bit later. She didn’t ask what was said and he didn’t offer. She fell asleep next to him and woke to find a note next to her.

_Consider forgiving him whether you think he did it or not.  
~Ben_

She hoped she could.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things from Peter's side, including what actually happened and Brighton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[**kalleah**](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/) made this whole thing better.

Peter watched as Hannah broke his heart further by her parting statement and shut the door. He went to follow her and tripped over his own feet, sending him to the floor. Frustration won out and his foot struck the wood.

How could she ever have so little faith in him? Couldn’t she see she was everything to him?

He rose and entered the bedroom. The bed really did look to him like it did when he had left that morning. He knew she didn’t make up the part about straightening the sheets but he really didn’t know how it got to its current state unless she had done it herself. But even that seemed unlikely.

Then he saw the condom wrapper on the floor. It wasn’t his brand or even the variety of ones Hannah always had on hand. No, Peter knew who it belonged to. The person in question had bragged about getting them special order from Amsterdam as they had that little something extra and apparently that little something extra was illegal in half of Europe. And Peter was going to kill the person in question when he saw him again.

Peter set about cleaning the room finding items that did not belong to him or Hannah, which only made his anger grow.

He then went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of whiskey. After he downed that in two gulps, he poured himself another. This one he sipped at. As he made his way to the sofa, there was a knock at the door. He practically dropped the glass as he ran to answer it.

“Hannah?” He was hopeful she’d come back. His face fell when it wasn’t her on the other side.

Monty grinned at him. “My dearest friend, I believe I left something behind during my extracurricular lunch while you were toiling away behind your desk. Do you mind if I…?”

Peter punched him in the face.

“What the bloody hell, mate?!” Monty stumbled inside, cupping his nose with one hand. “What good did that do?”

“You utter twat! Because of your little stunt, Hannah thinks I cheated on her. How in the hell did you even get in here?”

“You let me borrow a key few weeks back. How could she think that of you of all people?”

“I don’t know,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “The bed she made this morning was in total disarray. There was a pair of knickers hanging from the edge of the mattress that wasn’t hers. There was a condom wrapper on the floor. We haven’t had sex in nearly two weeks because we’ve hardly had time to see each other. My ex unexpectedly showed up in town right before all of this. You do the math.”

Monty sat at the table. “I’m sorry, man. I had no idea. That evidence is pretty damning. I’m such an idiot.”

“You really are.” He handed Monty a handkerchief. “I’m not going to apologise for that. You deserved it.”

Monty wiped away the bit of blood below his nose. “Ta. I know I did. Look, I’ll talk to her.”

“No, it should be me. Your stuff is still in the bedroom and I want my key back. Lock up when you go.”

“Absolutely. On all accounts.”

Peter left immediately and hailed a cab instead of waiting for the trains. The sooner this was all sorted, the better. He didn’t even remember the ride over. He flew up the stairs and knocked on her door. When knocking didn’t work, he called for her, which turned into pleading. He refused to give in. Eventually, the door opened. It was Ben.

“You know I didn’t do this.”

Ben nodded. “I would think not, but it’s looking pretty bad for you, mate.”

“It was Monty. He somehow thought it was a good idea to not limit his conquests to places that he didn’t pay for in some way. He was proud of what he did. I still want to hurt him more than the possible broken nose I gave him. If I could just explain to her…” Peter gave Ben a pleading look.

“I believe you. I really do. But she’s not going to be as easily won over. She needs time. It could be a couple of days. It could be a couple of years. The girl can hold a grudge when she’s upset. And I have to stand by her. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m not giving up.”

“Nor should you. Best of luck.” They shook hands and Peter was on his way.

He came back every day, though if she were home, she didn’t answer. He left voice messages as well. She ignored it all until the day he brought Monty with him. He never did find out if she opened the door because he wasn’t alone or if she just wanted to let him have his say so she could get rid of him. His partner explained every thing while Peter stood against the wall and watched her. Hannah kept a stony silence until he finished and then turned to Peter.

“I can’t believe you have him lying for you now.” With that, she slammed the door. Both men stood there stunned. Then Monty turned to him.

“I don’t think this can be fixed, mate. I’m sorry. Tell you what, let’s go get you drunk. My treat.” Peter nodded.

He was at a total loss at what to do. He was short of spiralling out, like he normally would do in such situations when a few days later his mobile rang and his heart soared when he looked the caller ID. It was Hannah.

“Hey, um, there are some things I’ve left at your place. I was wondering if I could stop by and pick them up.”

Peter could have smashed the wall then. “Yeah.” If she noticed his voice cracking, she didn’t say. “When?”

“Tonight all right?”

“Uh, yes. Sure.” He spent the rest of the day in a daze. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Hannah to use her key and be gone before he got home or if she would wait until he was there.

When he arrived at his flat, a quick look told him she hadn’t been there yet. He took off his coat and tried to distract himself. As he crossed from the bedroom to the bathroom, he heard a shuffling at the front door. Not waiting for another sign, he threw it open. Hannah had a hand half-raised as if to knock and her key held as if to go into the lock in the other.

“Hi,” she said, uncharacteristically sheepish.

“Hey. Come in. I’ll just be…” he gestured down the hall, “If you need me.” She nodded. He wanted to give her space but also didn’t want to be far either. He sat at his desk, resting his elbows on the edge and leaned his mouth against his folded hands. He just listened as she gathered her things. And it slowly ate away at him.

A few minutes later, the shuffling stopped. “Peter?”

He found her in the hall, a large bag over her shoulder. He knew his face showed his dejection. She made worse by holding the key out to him.

Peter ran a hand through his hair. “So that’s it then?”

“I don’t know. I just know I have to be away from here and from you for a while and it will make things easier to suss out. Let me know when you need your things at mine.”

He reached for her, “Hannah…”

“Hello? Anyone home? Monty?” A ginger head popped around the door which apparently hadn’t shut all the way. “Oh! Hi! You must be Peter and Hannah. Monty said he wasn’t sure when you’d be back. Well, this is a bit embarrassing. I was going to surprise him. He said this flat-sitting gig could get boring. Apparently he’s done with it though because you’re home! But, since I’m here, you didn’t happen to find a pearl earring did you? Family heirloom from my ex-husband.”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually, yes and I think you left something else as well.” He pointed her to a bundle he’d set off to the side.

“Thank you so much. You’re just as darling as Monty said you were. Well, not in those words. You wouldn’t happen to know where I could find him would you? I keep getting the info desk of the London Dungeon every time I ring the number he gave me. Oh well. I hope you two enjoyed your honeymoon! Monty said it was a lovely ceremony. Ta again!” The mystery woman flew out as quickly as she’d arrived.

“That was awfully convenient, don’t you think?” Hannah was tapping her foot.

“I promise you, I never saw that woman before. And I didn’t know when you were coming. If I did, do you think I would have left her things out where you could easily find them? And why would I use _that_ as a cover story? Give me some credit. You know what Monty is like. I love you and am faithful to you. Believe me or not.”

Hannah looked at him and he could see a realisation hit her, like a light bulb coming on. “You were telling the truth.”

“Yes."

“So you didn’t…”

“No.”

“Peter…”

They didn’t speak after that. The trail of discarded items spoke volumes though. Hannah’s bags landed where she dropped them as they hurriedly opened and shoved away only what was necessary as he took her against the wall, relieving a bit of the tension that had been building over the whole ordeal. Hannah’s coat, their shoes, her top and panties led to the table where Peter bent her over, flipped up her skirt and took her from behind at a punishing pace. And, he supposed he was punishing her for doubting him and not listening to him or to reason. She seemed to agree as she blindly reached for his hips encouraging him to go harder, which he did and then came with a roar. The rest of their clothes led to the sofa where things calmed and they touched and kissed. And where he coaxed a long orgasm out of her with his fingers then held her.

This all led to the bedroom where Hannah was undulating above Peter at a leisurely speed, both just content to be together again. As she leaned down to kiss him, he rolled them over so he was on top. They stayed that way until they finished, her first, then him. He moved off her and she curled to his side. They easily fell into their usual mutual stroking.

“Put your things back where they belong?” he mumbled into her hair. He felt he nod against him. “Good. Hannah, I’m not going to say I told you so or that I’m perfect or that I’ll never mess up, but please, from now on, talk to me, yell if you have to and in turn, hear me out. It hurt me that you could doubt me so quickly.”

She lifted her head to look at him. “I know and I’m so sorry. I’m not used to this whole mature relationship thing. In fact, this is my first time having one. In my job, it’s just too easy to believe that someone would cheat. Add the whole Natalie factor and my basic insecurities… I waited for you when you wanted to make sure we were real before getting back into bed. Wait for me while I figure out how to be a grown up in my love life?”

“Of course. Now, you wore me out. A cuddle and a kip are in order.”

“Agreed.” She curled back into him and they both drifted off.

Peter woke to find Hannah propped upon an elbow, idly running a hand over his chest, ruffling and smoothing the hair there. She smiled at him as she moved the leg she had thrown over his up and down. The motion wasn’t meant to be seductive, just reassuring. The rest of her body was firmly pressed to against his side. Night had fallen and the light from the city caused the both to be in half-shadows and her hair to glow.

Hannah spoke first. “As angry as I was and I still am a bit, I missed this. Just being with you. I missed you.”

“I’m sure not half as much as I missed you.” He stilled her hand and brought it to his lips.

He could see she was searching for the right words, “Peter, I… I’m starving.” She giggled as her stomach rumbled again his side.

“I’m sure I have leftovers of some sort that will fit your needs.” She slipped into one of his shirts while he put on some pyjama bottoms and they puttered out to the kitchen.

Their feast, held in plastic and cardboard containers, covered his table. Peter looked across to Hannah. She had folded herself onto the chair, one foot on the edge of it, making her knee even with her chin. She held a pair of chopsticks in one hand that she was using to twirl spaghetti out of a bowl held in her other. The shirt was wrinkled and her hair was mess. She never looked more beautiful to him. She was reading a magazine she’d balanced on the edge of the table. His heart swelled with emotion for her.

Hannah sucked up the noodle she’d picked and looked up. “What? Do I have something on me?” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, hardly the perfect lady she tended to show most of the world.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Nothing. I just… I love you is all. And I know that I tend to do that lock, stock and barrel. I can’t promise you that this will be easy going. In fact, I can promise you that it won’t be. We will fight again and it can get very ugly. But I want us to work through it. It will make us stronger because I want this to last, Hannah.”

“Look at us, being all mature! And as I’ve told you before, the good thing about tiffs is the making up. And I really think we haven’t quite finished that yet!” She stood and moved to him, plonking herself in his lap. “And to think, that little speech was prompted by cold pasta.” She leaned in and kissed.

* * *

  
“We should go on a mini-break,” Peter announced and popped a grape in his mouth.

Hannah paused in setting out the other items for their picnic lunch. “Should we?”

Over the weeks following “the misunderstanding” (as they had called it), things were still tenuous but they did their best to work through it. One of the ways they did that was by making a weekly, sometimes more, event to meet at St. James Park for lunch as it was a short walk for Peter. Hannah would bring the blanket and food, nothing fancy, and they would people watch, chat and listen to the buskers. After what they had been through, they made it point to see one another, no matter what.

Peter nodded. “We really should. I mean that’s the true test of any relationship, isn’t it?” Whether or not you can go on holiday together.”

“I suppose so. Where?” She handed him a sandwich.

“Some place you can run about in whatever piece of dental floss you call a bikini and I can have you rub copious amounts of sun crème on my carefully crafted pale freckled flesh.”

She flashed him a wry smile. “And what would I get out of this?”

“The pleasure of my company.”

“How could I possibly refuse that?” she said sarcastically.

“Come on, Hannah, I can have a few days off soon and I want to spend them with you. How about Brighton?”

“I thought you wanted some place… I don’t know, not Brighton.”

“It’s an hour by train. No jet lag. This isn’t some big to-do. Just a couple of days. Please?” He rubbed her leg as he dipped his head and looked up at her through his lashes.

“It’s a good thing you use your powers for good and not for evil.”

“I can think of a few wicked powers you seem to enjoy.”

“And they are very very good. Okay, Brighton it is, but I pay for the hotel.” He started to protest. “All right, half and you can pick up every thing else.”

“Fair enough. That’s settled then.” He went back to his food.

A few minutes later, Hannah spoke. “But if this goes well, full holiday, you and I, major travel, passports, and the lot.”

“As you wish.”

* * *

  
The plans fell together and they were off for a long weekend in June.

The forecast was calling for rain and the clouds in the sky were making it seem like a good possibility. As such, the train to Brighton wasn’t as crowded as it could have been.

The weather was of no concern to Peter or Hannah. If sunbathing was out of the running, they fully planned to take advantage of the hotel’s amenities. Hannah had been sure to pick some place up to her standards. Peter was more interested to find out how much or, more importantly, how little she managed to fit into the small bag she had brought with her.

They took a cab from the station. During the trip Peter said, “I suppose we could have hired a car.”

Hannah turned to him, surprised, “You drive?”

“Well, yes. Don’t you?”

“No. Why don’t you have a car?”

“I live in London. What with the congestion charge and the traffic, it just wasn’t worth the effort. How about you?”

“Never bothered to learn. Hoped others would take pity on me and made sure I got where I needed to go. Ben has a car and I can afford cabs.”

Peter brushed a piece of hair behind her ear and then put that arm around her shoulder. “I could teach you.”

“I have had flights of fancy of enrolling in driving school.”

“That may be but I highly doubt they would have the same rewards system as I would.”

“Mmm, if that isn’t incentive…” She snuggled into him, “I’ll think about it. But know this, I would dump you for the Stig, given the chance.”

“Understandable. Hannah, _I_ would dump _you_ for the Stig.”

They were grinning like children. “What about the other _Top Gear_ boys?”

“You have carte blanche. Except, if it’s May, please don’t tell me. I’m not sure I could deal with that.”

“No worries there. Now Hammond on the other hand…If only he wasn’t so bloody dedicated to his wife… which, of course, only makes him more attractive.”

“We could double date.”

Hannah nodded. “We should. Get on that.”

“I will.” They chuckled as they pulled up to the hotel. An influx of Dutch tourists demanding connecting rooms made it so they somehow got a free upgrade to a bigger room. They weren’t complaining.

Peter set their bags down and walked to the large windows at the far wall. They had a view of the beach and the water beyond it. The glass started at the ceiling and stopped at Peter’s waist where a window seat that ran the length of the wall began. There was a set of glass doors leading out to the small balcony. Giant sheers hung free, partially closed and blackout curtains were tied back at the ends. The glass opened sideways. Peter cracked a couple of them, enjoying the slight breeze.

“Peter?” Hannah had disappeared into the bathroom to organise her things.

“Yes?”

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yes and I love you.”

“Good. So, you’ll understand completely when I say I’m leaving you for this bathtub.”

He sniggered to himself. “That’s fine. I’ll just pick myself up some other holiday-maker.”

“Excellent. I hear Brighton has a great gay scene.”

“Oi!” He strode to the bathroom, stripping along the way. “Let’s see this tub that’s so wonderful.”

Hannah had already undressed and was filling the bath with spicy-scented bubbles. They climbed in and Hannah settled between Peter’s legs.

He dragged bubbles up and down her arm. “Though I suppose it would be the only option.”

“Hmm? What are you on about?”

“The gay thing. I would be my only choice as you have ruined me for all other women.”

She turned to face him. “Aw. That’s strangely one of the most romantic things I’ve ever heard. I always knew you and Monty were a little too close.” She shrieked as he splashed her.

“Take that back. I could pull much better than Monty.”

When they re-entered the other room the rain had started. Through silent agreement, they decided on trying out the bed. It was deemed satisfactory and they spent the rest of the afternoon there.

The rain had stopped but the wind picked up. It ruffled the sheers and Hannah’s hair as she straddled Peter’s hips. When they finished, they spooned together.

“If this is all we get accomplished during this trip, I’ll have no complaints.” Hannah stretched against him.

Peter kissed her neck. “I do have plans on showing you off, you know. But this is very enjoyable to be sure.”

The next morning they took a stroll to a nearby café for breakfast and discovered the rain from the day before had scared away a lot of the other tourists and had left a sunny and quite warm day behind. It was decided they would hit the beach before the crowds would return.

They arranged their deck chairs and set out all their things: books, iPods, water bottles, towels and such. Peter took of his t-shirt and got comfortable and then watched expectantly as Hannah removed her cover-up.

“Oh.” He made his disappointment clear.

“What?” Hannah checked herself over for any possible cause for Peter’s reaction.

“It’s just…well, it’s practically conservative.”

She put her hands on her hips. “I’m not giving it away to strangers for free. You’ve earned your right to see underneath. And here I took great care to find bikinis that had bottoms that tied on the side because I remembered you liked that.”

Peter was hopeful. “Bikinis. Plural? As in more than one?”

Hannah smiled. “Of course. Couldn’t possibly been seen in the same one twice. Not to mention any time spent in a hot tub. And what about you, eh? With your boring sensible trunks. Maybe I wanted you to show off your thin white legs.”

He raised a leg and pointed his toes. “What’s wrong with my legs?”

“To me, nothing. Just pointing out, I’m not expecting you to wear a Speedo. In fact, please don’t. Only swimmers and divers should do that. Now, who am I going to find to rub this on me since my boyfriend doesn’t seem to approve of my choice of swimming costume?” She pretended to search up and down the sand while flipping the bottle in her hand.

“Give me that. You’ll still get appropriate leers and I’ll have to assert my manliness. Stop that snickering.”

They settled into a lazy day under the sun, reading books and occasionally chatting. When Hannah rolled to her stomach, Peter watched with great interest as she opened the back of her top to ‘prevent tan lines’ and he happily rubbed more of the crème on her as she fell asleep.

In the late afternoon, when it seemed the rest of the world had figured out it was warm and the sun was out and therefore time to go to the beach, Peter and Hannah went back to the hotel to change before heading out for a late lunch. Afterwards, they wandered the stalls of the street vendors. Peter knew he had lost Hannah when she discovered tables and tables full of second hand books.

He followed her around patiently as she happily picked through the stacks and would pick of one or two himself and flip through them. She handed ones to him she’d think he liked. He only turned his nose up at one of them.

“Not a poetry fan then?”

“No. Well not in the traditional anyway. While my school mates were using Keats and Shelley to woo the girls, my poets used a different medium. _My_ poets are Lennon and McCartney, Strummer, Jagger, Morrison, Tennant and Lowe…”

“Who?”

“Pet Shop Boys.”

“Oh. Continue.”

“It’s just music can express so much on a different emotional level. Only in music can you can cry or laugh or fall in love and never hear a word. So while I’ve done my fair share of celebrating Burns night, that’s the extent of my loyalty to dear ole Robbie. I know that’s grounds to kick me out of Scotland. However, I make up for it in other ways.” He picked up another book. “I should take you there some day. Scotland that is.”

“I’ve been. Wasn’t impressed.”

“And I’m sure you stayed in one of those posh converted castles and never got out. No, I’d take you to the real Scotland.”

He could see she was intrigued. “Yeah? You gonna make love to me in the heather?”

Peter wrinkled his nose. “If you really want. Far be it from me to not indulge you but it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. The hay fever. Bare arse in the wind. Sheep judging you.”

“Sheep?”

“Oh, aye. The disappointment in their eyes is too much to bear.”

She was trying not to laugh. “Sounds like personal experience.”

“I swear, if they could have, the wee buggers would have held up score cards. Tell you what; we’ll stay somewhere that overlooks the heather and I’ll make sure you have an excellent view as I make love to you.”

“Couldn’t the sheep still see us?”

“Yes but we’ll be indoors where they can’t inspect your nether regions with their noses after you’ve passed out.”

She did laugh at that. “I don’t want to know.”

“I wasn’t going to share. But really, I do want to take you there.” He took her hand.

“I’d love that.” They walked hand-in-hand through the rest of the stalls and then took their purchases back before having a light dinner.

The next day they did the tourist thing: spending time at the Royal Pavilion and Brighton Pier. As they later lounged in the hot tub, Hannah had told Peter she was taking him out that night but wouldn’t tell him where. Just that he would have fun. He was dubious and he discovered he was right to be as she led him into the pub.

There at the front was a garishly lit stage and several people in different stages of intoxication butchering a Sugarbabes song. And that was saying something.

“Ta da!” Hannah spread her arms, grinning.

Peter did an about face but was halted before he could take a step. “I am not doing karaoke.”

“Aw. Why not?” Hannah stopped her foot and pouted. “You sing in the shower all the time.”

“For a very private audience.”

“Please? I’ll go first.” She stuck out her lip in a way that he knew she knew would always got to him.

“Fine, but I’m going to need a considerable amount of liquor in me.” She grinned and bounced before pulling him deeper into the crowd.

A half-hour later Hannah stood on the stage. “Right, I said I’d do this. So, I picked a song that is very special to my boyfriend and me. I love you, Peter.” He wondered what it could be and grinned as the guitar blared through the sound system. " _Hey ho, let’s go! Hey ho, let’s go! Hey ho, let’s go! Hey ho, let’s go! They’re forming in a straight line…_ "

The crowd cheered as she curtseyed when she finished and then ran into Peter’s arms. “Your turn.”

“Do I have to?” He was going to no matter what but he wanted to see how far she would go to get him up there.

“I’ll give you a lolly if you do.”

“How could I refuse that?” He put his name and song in the queue but now it was his turn to keep her in suspense as to what he chose. When it was time he got on stage and accepted the microphone. “This is a special song for a special lady.” He saw Hannah smile as _Killer Queen_ started up. He tried not to laugh when she rolled her eyes as he sang, “ _Met a man from China. Complications minor…_ ”

She gave him a standing ovation when he finished. “Cheeky git,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him.

“You love it.”

“Yep. That wasn’t so bad now was it?”

“I guess not. And I might be persuaded to go back up there again given the right company.” She grinned. “But I want two lollies then.” They put their names in again and when he pointed out a song, they both knew it was the perfect choice.

They belted out the _Elephant Love Medley_ with Peter as Nicole and Hannah as Ewan to the joy of the crowd.

They stayed until closing and then moved to another pub where a rock band was doing cover versions of R & B classics. The whole pub sang along and closed down this pub to the band’s rendition of Barry White.

The next day was their last. After a bright, warm morning on the beach turned into lunchtime of rain, they chose to make use of what the hotel had to offer, like they originally planned. Hannah dragged Peter to a couples’ massage and then he left her to get pampered in the day spa for the rest of the afternoon while he checked them out and wandered the town.

He was glad he’d thought of the trip. It was a good way to cap off their healing process after the misunderstanding. A good escape from their daily lives. Now they could go back refreshed, knowing their relationship was in a safe solid place for the time being.

After he picked her up, they went for a meal on the pier, overlooking the water. The rain had stopped as the sun set, making for an incredibly romantic mood. Peter said as much as he reached across the table to take Hannah’s hand. She called him a sap and fed him a bite of her cake.

They took the final train out back to London. As it was the last, a Sunday and the rain had sent many people packing earlier in the day, the car was almost empty save for an old man dozing in the back.

Peter looked around to see their lack of company and back at his and Hannah’s joined hands. She had nestled against his shoulder and was gazing out the window. He nudged her. “Have you ever seen _Risky Business_?”

“Before we all knew Tom Cruise was insane, yeah.”

“I quite like that one scene.”

She sat up and grinned. “You gonna slide around in your underwear and an Oxford?”

“No. Wouldn’t mind seeing you doing it though. No, I was thinking about the one on the train.”

She looked around and saw what he did. She smirked as she climbed into his lap. “Hmm. I quite like that one too.”

He ran a hand up her leg, under her flimsy sundress and over her bottom. “Am I imagining things or do you not have any knickers on?”

“They’d ruin the line of the dress.”

“Can’t have that.” He kissed her, moving to her neck as she fumbled with his belt and fly. It wasn’t long before they were moving together; letting the vibrations of the train add to the sensations they were creating on their own.

He kept her on top of him until their station was announced. They pulled themselves together before they came to stop, nodded to the old man as they stepped out and took a cab back to his flat.

They changed and climbed into bed. Hannah rolled over and traced the side of Peter’s face. “I had a lovely time. Thank you for taking me.”

He took the hand and kissed the palm. “Thank you for coming with me. I wouldn’t sing in front of strangers for just anyone, you know.”

“You had fun.”

“I admit nothing.” He let out an 'oomph' as Hannah jumped on top of him and lifted his t-shirt. “Oh, now really, that’s not going to work. Honestly.” He giggled as she tickled his sides. That only spurred her on. When he gathered his wits, he let his hands drift under the shirt she had on and tickled her back.

Things progressed from there as their clothes flew across the room. They both agreed it was a successful holiday all around.

Before they drifted off, Peter whispered in Hannah’s ear, “I still haven’t got my lollies.”

She elbowed him in the gut.

* * *

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _AN 2:_ As they would have ruined the make-up, [here's](http://pics.livejournal.com/misssara11/gallery/0001axp8) Hannah's bikinis.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah has some news for Peter. Peter meets the family. And the future is discussed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _AN:_ [](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**swankkat**](http://swankkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/profile)[**kalleah**](http://kalleah.livejournal.com/) made this whole thing better. To see what caused Peter's concern [click here](http://pics.livejournal.com/misssara11/gallery/0001cty8). And I'd like to thank all of you who've read and an extra thanks to those who commented (some on every chapter)! I glad you all liked it.

Hannah checked her calendar and then her watch. This was a routine she had been doing for the past half-hour. Peter was going to be there any minute. She still jumped when he knocked on the door.

He breezed past her, carrying what was going to be their dinner. She followed behind. He rambled as he unpacked the bags he’d brought in.

“Hello, my love. I’ve brought a variety: a bit of Chinese, curry, that vile sushi you seem to love so much, and the cheap lager I love so much.”

She bit her nail and then just blurted it out. “Peter, I’m late.”

“How are you late? I came over here. Did you forget an appointment?” He looked up and saw her expression. “Oh. That kind of late. Are you sure?”

“I haven’t done a test yet, but I’ve never been late.”

He sat down. She sat beside him. She looked at him as he stared into space. “But we were careful.” Now he did turn to her.

“We were not always careful.” There had been quite a few times they got swept up in the moment and forwent the condom. When she was Hannah and not Belle, those were the sort of things she didn’t always think about.

“Yeah. I guess we haven’t been. I thought you were on birth control.”

“I am but nothing's one hundred percent. Besides, you know I’ve been having some troubles with cramps and things with the pills they switched me to a few weeks ago.”

“Is it… It is mine, right?”

She looked him dead on. “You don’t know how much I wish I could say yes without any doubt.”

“Right.” He stood and walked out the door. Hannah put her head in her hands and cried. There was a knock on the door ten minutes later. She ignored it until there was a soft, “Hannah, it’s me. Open up.”

She wiped away her tears and opened the door to Peter. He walked back in carrying another bag. He took out a bottle of water and handed it to her.

“In case you are, beer and champagne may not be the best choices. And you might need this.” He set a box in front of her.

“A pregnancy test.” She read the label but didn’t touch it.

“You said you hadn’t taken one. Do you want to…?”

She placed a hand near his and drew figures on the counter’s surface. “Peter, if this comes out positive, what are we going to do?”

He took her hand properly. “As far as I’m concerned, that boy or girl is mine and we will raise him or her together.”

“We wouldn’t have to.”

“That baby was made out of love, Hannah. Our love. I wouldn’t dare destroy that and I hope you wouldn’t either.”

“But it’s not that simple. I’d certainly have to quit my work. Everything would change.”

He rubbed her arm. “I know it would, but Hannah, we’ll make it work. I’ll support you if I have to. We’ll both have to make adjustments but we’ll do it together. I will never abandon you. So, how about it?” He pushed the box she’d let be towards her.

She knew everything he said he was true. And there really wasn’t anyone else she’d rather have by her side during all of it.

She decided.

“Not yet. If this does change everything, I want to have one more night the way it was. Can we just pretend for the moment that this isn’t happening and find out in the morning?”

“Of course. Whatever you want.” He pulled her into his arms and she melted into him. He pulled back a few minutes later. “Dinner’s getting cold. Think you can eat?”

She nodded mutely and let him usher her to a chair. They ate and then moved to the sofa to watch television; both acting like nothing else was on their minds. Eventually, Hannah stood and led Peter to bed.

He made love to her with infinite gentleness and with protection in place. She felt cherished and safe, two things she didn’t think she’d ever needed; but most of all she felt loved, something she sometimes thought she didn’t deserve.

“Hold me tonight?” she asked as he got back into bed after cleaning up.

He wrapped his arms around her, “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

The next morning she woke before Peter and slipped out of bed. After putting on her dressing gown, she picked up the box and went to the bathroom, sitting down on the lip of the bathtub.

That was where Peter found her twenty minutes later. He had slipped on pyjama bottoms, she noted as he knelt in front of her and placed his hands on her knees.

“You okay?” He reached up and brushed a thumb across her cheek. Hannah nodded. She really didn’t know what else to say. “I’m going in late to work,” he announced.

“You don’t have to do that, Peter.”

“There is no way I’m letting you go through this alone. So, do your thing.”

She stood and stared at him. She could tell he wasn’t budging. “Peter, you know I have to pee on a stick to take the test, right?”

His eyes widened. “Right, you can do that bit on your own.”

“Thanks.” She smiled for the first time that morning.

When she finished up, she found him sitting one of the chairs in the bedroom. She climbed into his lap and burrowed her head into the crook of his neck. He rubbed her back.

“How long do we have?”

“A few minutes.” She wrapped her arms around him and he did the same to her. He then gave her a squeeze and started to rock her.

She lifted her head some time later. “I think it’s ready.”

He grabbed her hand before she could take a step. “I love you. No matter what.”

She smiled at him. “I love you, too. Come on.” They walked to the loo together. Hannah picked up the stick and the box. Peter peeked over her shoulder. They looked back and forth between the two items and then Hannah set them down.

“So, I guess that’s it then.”

“I guess so,” he agreed.

“Coffee?”

“Sure.”

She set about making the coffee while he took a seat at the table. After she made up the mugs and brought them to the table, Peter asked the same thing she’d been pondering. “Now what?”

“I’ll go to the doctor to be sure but yeah, it’s looking like I’m not pregnant.” She took a long drink. “What are you thinking?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure.”

“Would this have been something you would want?”

“I’ve never been in a position to find out before. I wasn’t married long enough for it to be an issue and Natalie’s kids were all but grown. I guess I never thought about it. I don’t think I’d be opposed but I certainly am not actively seeking it either. What about you?”

“I never wanted kids. I’m too selfish. I’d have to quit working because not many want an escort who’s up the duff , at least ones I would want to work with, and then I’d have to work on getting my figure back, losing my client list in the process due to being out for nearly a year. But now… I guess I’m like you. It wouldn’t be the end of world but it’s not my first, second or even third choice. Breakfast?”

“I’ll help.” They moved about her kitchen. “I’ve not even been around children all that much. I try not to be, though it can’t be that hard.”

“You should spend time with Ollie, my nephew.” They both laughed. Then she turned to him, serious. “I could arrange that, you know.”

“Arrange what?” he asked, his mouth full of Marmite covered toast.

“Meeting my nephew. My family actually. I want you to meet my family. You are a very important part of my life. It’s time they get used to the fact.” They sat down to eat properly.

He smiled at her. “Yeah, I’ll do that.” He continued to grin at her.

She started to squirm in her seat. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“That was a grown up relationship moment you had just then.”

Hannah sat up straighter and smiled. “Yes it was. Do me a favour? Don’t judge me on my family.”

“Oh Hannah, don’t be silly. Of course I’m going to!”

She laughed and tossed a piece of fried egg at him.

Later that day, a trip to the doctor confirmed the results from that morning. She was not pregnant. She was surprised to find a small part of her was a bit disappointed but the majority of her sighed in relief. She met Peter for lunch. After she told him the news, he still seemed worried.

“What’s going on then? It’s not anything serious is it?” Peter took her hand, concern etched on his face.

“Nope. Fit as a fiddle. The doctor said it was a combination of stress and the new pills. He said I would have just as been as likely to be early as late. The medication should level off soon and until then, we have to be sure to be careful or abstain. I some how managed to not laugh at that part.”

“We could try it. Abstinence.” He burst out laughing. “Sorry. I tried.”

Hannah’s mobile rang. “Hello? Hi Mum.” She and her mother chatted for a few minutes before she was asked to Sunday dinner. “Hey Mum, can I bring someone?”

“Of course, dear. Who? Is it Ben? I could make those potatoes he likes.” Her mother knew every thing Ben liked and tended to spoil him when he came.

“No. I’m bringing my boyfriend. You’re going to meet Peter.” She took his hand across the table.

“Well, it’s about time. Is there anything I should avoid making? Allergies? Dislikes?”

“No, well, except for mushrooms. I think you’ll find Peter Carlisle is the _least_ picky eater you will ever meet.” They finished up their call and she turned her attention back to Peter. “So, are you free on Sunday?”

“I’m afraid not. I have to have dinner with my girlfriend’s family. I’m meeting them for the first time.”

“Poor you. Sounds ghastly.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll need massive amounts of consoling afterwards. You free for that?”

* * *

  
“Now, my sister and mother will give us both disappointed looks for reasons we’ll never comprehend quite often. Patrick, my brother-in-law, will be painfully polite and agree with anything Jackie says when asked. The baby will mostly drool. And my dad, who’s the only opinion I truly care about, will love you simply because you’re important to me.”

They were in the back of a cab turning onto Hannah’s parents’ street. Peter took her hand. “Will he really be won over that easily?”

“Most likely not, but I didn’t want to freak you out anymore than was necessary.”

“I work for the most famous police department in the world and _this_ scares me.”

She brushed the side of his face with her free hand. “Aw.” Then she pinched his cheek. “Suck it up. We’re here.”

“Your compassion. It overwhelms.”

All the introductions were pleasant, though Hannah could see her mum and sister were looking for anything to use as ammunition in the future. They sat down to eat without incident, however.

“Mrs. Baxter, everything tastes wonderful.” Peter was trying.

“Thank you, Peter. I’m sure it’s more than what you get from Hannah’s cooker.”

She wasn’t going to rise to the bait. “Actually, Mum, Peter’s been teaching me to cook a little. Very little, but still.”

He smiled at her. “Well, I don’t know a lot of recipes but she’s not too bad at it.”

Her mum seemed surprised but pleased. “You’re learning to cook? I could never get you in the kitchen when you were younger for more than a snack.”

“Yeah, well, I think it helps that I fancy my teacher now.” She could tell her mother had been won over. Hannah had a feeling it was because Peter had got her to try something she’d spent most of her life resisting, Even if it wasn’t, she wasn’t going to complain.

Things went smoothly after that. Hannah had noticed her sister was uncharacteristically quiet but wasn’t about to complain about it. She knew things were too good to be true when Jackie set down her drink and fixed Peter with a hard stare.

“Hannah tells us you’re a DI at Scotland Yard.”

Peter smiled easily. “That’s correct.”

“Isn’t that a bit dangerous?”

Hannah didn’t like where this could be going. “Jackie…”

“No, it’s fine.” Peter placed a hand on her arm. “In some aspects it is but anything can be dangerous. Besides, if it weren’t for me and my co-workers, the streets wouldn’t be safe for you and your family. I sleep very well at night knowing I’m helping put away villainy and scum.”

Hannah suppressed her laugh but not her grin. No one had dared stand their ground with Jackie in years. There was a perverse pleasure in seeing her sister gobsmacked. Even her brother-in-law was smirking but wiped it away with his napkin when his wife turned to him.

The rest of the meal went by without incident. After clearing the table, Hannah followed her father out while he went for a smoke break. He finished rolling a cigarette and went to hand it over to her. She shook her head.

“I keep forgetting you quit. Making the rest of us look bad. Is that the reason why?” He nodded indoors where Peter was helping with the dishes.

“No, but he prefers me a non-smoker. I quit after we met but long before we started dating. Actually, I quit before I even knew he wanted a non-smoker.” She watched her foot trail a pebble across the ground. “I love him, Daddy.”

“Does he feel the same?”

She looked up and smiled. “Yes. I have no doubt about that. So, what do you think?”

He took a puff and slowly let out the smoke. “I think, youngest, that you haven’t been this happy in years. And he must be pretty special if you dared bring him here. From what I’ve seen of you two together today, he treats you like the lady I know you are. He put your sister in her place. I like him for that alone.”

“So, you _do_ like him?”

He lifted an arm and she folded into him. “Yes. I do.” They stood there for a few minutes. “But he’ll never be good enough for you.”

She laughed. “Yeah, right. If anything, I don’t deserve him.”

As their cab pulled up, her mum shoved a cookbook into Hannah’s hands and loaded both of them up with the traditional leftovers.

“Mum, I make scrambled eggs. I don’t think I’m ready for this.”

“Well, take a peek. It’s something to strive for. And Peter, I do hope you come again. You’d be most welcome.”

He kissed her mother’s cheek. “I’d like that. Thank you.” They said their goodbyes and were on their way.

Peter wrapped his arm around Hannah’s shoulder. “Did I pass the test?”

She kissed his cheek and nuzzled her nose against his neck. “With flying colours.”

“I’m glad. But I should be honest, there’s really only one Baxter’s opinion I truly care about.” He kissed the top of her head.

“You have nothing to worry about there.”

* * *

  
As the weeks went on, Hannah found she was truly happy and that that came from being with Peter. They still had their occasional problems, which she found out was normal (she shuddered at the word) in a relationship. They had tiffs and they then made up for them in spectacular fashion.

This all led her to do some serious thinking about her life. And one day she told him as much. “Peter, I’ve been pondering.”

He was propped up on some pillows in her bed, going over case files. He was wearing his glasses, a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms. His hair was still damp from the torrential downpour he’d been caught in on the way over.

Hannah had a cancelled in-call who said he’d pay anyway. She didn’t bother to change her lingerie as she had a feeling Peter would like it and called him to come over for the night. The rain caught him unexpectedly and they thought it easier to just change for bed. He thought nothing of her lounging in her dressing gown.

He looked up from his file. “What about?”

“A career change.”

“Really?” He took off his glasses. “Is this because of what happened a few weeks ago?”

“Partially.”

“While I can’t say I’m disappointed in this turn of events, you aren’t doing this for me, right? I don’t want you to make a major decision like this only because it’s something that I want.”

She sat by his feet. “You’re only a very very small part of this. I’m just… I’m getting burnt out. And there’s the safety issue and other things. I don’t think I could do it for much longer.”

“You know I’ll support whatever you decide.”

She put her head in her hands. “But I can’t quit full stop. I can’t afford to. And what would I do?”

Peter sat up and rubbed her arm, “You’re clever. You’ll think of something. Use your degree or go back to school for something else. Become that secretary you tell everyone you are.”

“I don’t want to work in an office.” She was whinging and she knew it. She also didn’t care.

He pulled her into his arms. “It will work out. I’ll help in any way.”

“I know.” She tilted her head back to kiss him, ready to change the mood. “But I haven’t quit yet. So, there’s still a chance for last-minute cancellations and I’m stuck wearing something like this.” She stood and dropped her robe.

Her bra and panties were a light fleshly pink with black details. The cups of the bra had scrolling black design and the rest was trimmed with black lace. The knickers continued the black on pink artwork in the front and back. However, the detail she knew would grab the attention of the man on the bed was the silk ribbons tied at her hips holding them up.

“Well aren’t those just clever. You would never know those were on, they’re so sheer until you see that bit at the top.” He pointed to her stockings.

She turned so that her back was to him. “That and the seams running down the backs,” she threw over her shoulder.

“Wahey, look at that!” He pulled her into the bed.

Much later, as they lay in tangled sheets, Hannah was almost lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of stroking on her back that Peter was doing when he suddenly sat up.

“I’ve just had a marvellous idea.”

Hannah pulled herself up from where she’d been dumped on the mattress. “That’s wonderful. Could you not do it so suddenly next time?”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry.” He helped her the rest of the way upright. “You majored in English, right?”

“And economics. Why?”

“And you love to read.”

“Yes.”

“Become a writer!”

“Don’t be daft.”

He took her hands in his. “Seriously. Write what you know. Tell your story. It will fly off the shelves. I’m sure people can’t make up some of what you’ve seen.”

She looked up at him through her lashes. “You really think I could?” He nodded. “It’s not going to happen over night though. I’m going to have to wean myself away from prostitution and most likely will have to get a regular day job.”

“So do it. You like a challenge. Or are you too cowardly?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Oh, those are fighting words, Carlisle.”

“Bring it on, Baxter.” They wrestled around on the bed for a bit.

After he let her win, she rested her chin on her fist and propped herself on his stomach. “I wouldn’t just break into this whole thing. Some people never do. Maybe I should start small. A blog, for practise. But who would read it besides you and Ben?”

“Monty and he can get the word out. Say, ‘Have you seen that blog written by that ex-prossie? And that boyfriend of hers seems like a real stand up chap.’ It would get out there.”

She smiled a Cheshire cat grin. “I’m going to be a writer!” She really thought it could work.

“Yes you are. And you could still use Belle as your nom de plume!” He pulled her up to kiss her. She rolled off of him a bit later. “But Hannah, I do have a concern about this job change.”

Hannah furrowed her brow. This course of action was his idea. “What’s that?”

Peter picked up her knickers from the folds of the sheets. Both sides had been undone in his slow seductive act of undressing her. But as soon as they were off, he pounced on her and the discarded clothing got tangled into the bed clothes as the two of them made good use of the bed. “Will you still be buying these fancy underthings or will that come to an end?” She groaned and smacked him with a pillow. “What? This is a valid issue!”

“I’ll tell you what, when the time comes, you and I will go through my entire Belle wardrobe and some of the Hannah side. Whatever you like, I’ll be sure keep.”

“Hmm. This could take some serious effort. Long, long nights will be dedicated to this. I may have to put my other cases on hold.”

His first attempt at an investigation dissolved into a playful tussle but they didn’t take things any further, choosing instead to just cuddle until they drifted off.

The next day was decidedly a lazy one as neither one of them had anything to do. The weather was an about face from the day before by being warm and sunny. After a long walk and brunch at an outdoor café, they returned to Hannah’s.

They had opened the doors to the balcony to let the fresh air in. They were both reading; Hannah, a book she’d bought on their holiday and Peter, his files. She had her legs thrown over his lap and would occasionally drag her bare foot down the inside of his arm. He would give her a stern look over his glasses before breaking into a grin and tickling the bottoms of her feet. She would settle her legs back onto his denim clad lap and they would turn back to what they were doing.

When she finished her chapter, Hannah set down her book and studied the man she loved. While her insecurities were waning, there was still a question she had to ask. “Peter, where do you see us, our relationship, going?”

He closed the folder he was reading and took off his glasses. “Where did this come from?” She shrugged. “I don’t know, Hannah. I know I’m in love with you and that when I look into my future, I see you. What that entails has yet to be seen. Maybe we’ll live apart or together. Maybe we’ll make more of a commitment to each other. I just don’t know. I do know I want to be with you, whatever that means. How about you?”

“I think you put it perfectly. Though, I may never want to marry you. I have always been anti-marriage for myself.” She wanted to be as honest with him as possible.

“My experience with it hasn’t been the best either.”

“If I do change my mind, you’ll be the first to know, though. “

He picked up her hand and kissed it. “Glad to hear it.”

She pulled him on top of her. “I love you.”

And, for now, that was enough for the both of them.


End file.
